


Reflections Through the Glass

by MistyMountainHop



Category: That '70s Show
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 18:03:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 127,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyMountainHop/pseuds/MistyMountainHop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months after Chicago, Hyde no longer believes in love — or in Jackie. Donna's not speaking to Eric. Kelso's confused about his whole life, and Fez has gone missing. The only way back may be to leave it all behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Distortions

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series.
> 
>  **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.
> 
>  **Author's Note:** Hyde never married a stripper. Too out of character. Don't believe it. A very few minor elements from season 8 have been retained for convenience, but this story's characterization is based on seasons 1-7. Zen-love forever. You don't need to know The 10th Kingdom at all to enjoy this story. You'll discover it at the same time the T7S gang does.

CHAPTER 1  
**DISTORTIONS**

 _Six Months after Hyde Found Jackie in Chicago with Kelso_  
  
_Six Months after Eric Left for Africa_  
  
_Eric Forman’s Basement_  
...

Jackie shifted her weight on the basement couch for the dozenth time that afternoon. Not because the old thing was lumpy. It had always been lumpy. She just couldn’t get comfortable. Eric was sitting on the couch with her, silently fiddling with the silver I.D. bracelet Donna gave him all those Christmases ago. He’d finally come home for a visit and seemed so damn awkward. She wanted to pinch him.  
  
She turned away from him instead. Except for Steven’s “Hey, man,” no one had said a word when Eric entered the basement. Donna was sitting in Fez’s chair, reading a stupid book of fairy tales. Michael wasn’t even there since he was on police duty. And, worst of all, Steven had grown back his beard.  
  
Jackie avoided looking at the scruffy thing at all costs, which meant she hadn’t really seen his face in months. She’d given up hope he’d grown it back to spite her. His beard was a final sign—in a long line of signs—that he didn’t care what she thought one way or the other.  
  
Eric broke the silence first. “Good book, Donna?”  
  
“Uh-huh.” Donna turned a page.  
  
Jackie shifted her focus to the floor. Wedged halfway under the table was a crushed Raisinet, but Fez wasn’t around to eat it. He’d gone after his whorey wife, Laurie, up in Canada—months ago—to get her to sign their divorce papers. No one had seen or heard from him since.  
  
An old Milk Dud was stuck to the table not too far away from the Raisinet. Fez really needed to come back. Jackie hoped some strange maple syrup-making cult hadn’t abducted him.  
  
“Well, it must be the best book in the history of mankind,” Eric said, “’cause you haven’t said a damn thing to me since I got here.”  
  
Donna kept her face behind her book. ”What do you want me to say, Eric?”  
  
“How about ‘Welcome back,’ for starters?”  
  
“Welcome back,” she said, although it sounded more like “Wmmbkk.”  
  
Staring at the floor was no good. Jackie glanced at her perfect nails, at the split ends of Donna’s blonde hair, at the scuffed bottoms of Steven’s boots—and then back at the floor. She had nowhere safe to look. Not because of the balloons and streamers Mrs. Forman had tackily decorated the basement with for Eric’s return. Nothing seemed right.  
  
Except for herself, of course. Jackie pulled a compact mirror from her purse. She did have one safe place to look: Her own reflection.  
  
“Oh, come on!” Eric said. “I was halfway around the world, dodging elephants, fighting lions—”  
  
“Breaking up with me.” Donna turned another page.  
  
Jackie snapped her compact shut. The both of them were being so annoying. She ripped the book from Donna’s hands. It was thick and heavy as a brick.  
  
“Can we please pay attention to what’s important here?” Jackie said.  
  
“Thank you!” Eric said.  
  
She smoothed her skirt and laced her fingers on top of her knee. “I’m starting my job at the TV station tomorrow. I’m going to be assistant to Christine St. George, anchor of _What’s Up Wisconsin,_ which means I’m basically the co-anchor of _What’s Up Wisconsin!”_  
  
“Oh, that’s right!” Donna said.  
  
“Congrats,” Eric mumbled.  
  
Steven said nothing. Not even to burn her for saying such a dumb thing like she was the co-anchor—even though, someday, it probably would be true.  
  
“Jackie,” Donna said, “are you nerv—Eric, why are you wearing that?”  
  
He’d finally fastened the I.D. bracelet around his wrist. “I wore it every day in Africa.”  
  
“Forman, did you take that off before you got here so you could make a show of putting it back on?” Steven was eating from a bowl of party mix on his lap, his legs were stretched out on the ottoman, and his sunglasses obscured his eyes—not that Jackie was looking at him. “That is totally lame. Oh, and welcome back.”  
  
Jackie paged through Donna’s book, _Grimm’s Fairy Tales._ “Rapunzel,” “Cinderella,” “Snow White,” she knew them all.  
  
“Take it off,” Donna said.  
  
“What? Why?” Eric said.  
  
“Why the hell are you wearing it?”  
  
“Donna,” Jackie said, “he wants you back. D’uh.”  
  
“Excuse me?” Donna said.  
  
Jackie flipped to “Sleeping Beauty” and turned the page toward Donna. “You’re like her, and Eric’s like the prince. Only his kiss isn’t good enough to wake anybody up, so he’s trying to use that bracelet to get you to remember how things were before he made a royal mess of things.”  
  
“That’s ridiculous.” Donna tore the book from Jackie’s fingers.  
  
“So’s Forman,” Steven said.  
  
Eric stood up. ”No, she’s right. I wore it in Africa because being so far away from you was... I’m wearing it now because—look, can we just go somewhere and talk?”  
  
“You had your chance.” Donna shoved her book under her arm and clomped her big feet out of the basement.  
  
Eric sank back into the couch.  
  
“Good job, man.” Steven held out his hand for a high-five.  
  
Eric batted it away. “Whatever.”  
  
“Isn’t that Steven’s line? Eric, listen,” Jackie said, “although I keep telling Donna she could find someone less scrawny, less twitchy, less girly than you, she hasn—”  
  
“You get used to eating bugs?” Steven spoke over Jackie’s words as if she hadn’t even been talking.  
  
“Steven, I was speaking.”  
  
”I told your mom to pack you some ketchup this time. Should make the grubs go down easier.”  
  
“Steven!”  
  
He moved his head barely an inch in her direction. ”Anyway, Forman, so I got this new guy working in the record store…”  
  
Jackie tuned him out. She wanted to stomp out of the basement like Donna, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not that he’d be satisfied at having won a victory over her. He’d just be slightly less annoyed at not having her presence around anymore, and she wasn’t willing to give him even that minor pleasantness. He didn’t deserve it.  
  
Their last true conversation had taken place two weeks after he’d found her in that hotel with Michael:  
  
_Steven_ , she’d said, _I am so sorry about what happened in Chicago. I was alone, and I thought I lost you._ Her heart was beating so fast.  
  
_Yeah, well, I can see why you thought that._  
  
His voice had taken on such a gentle tone. She thought they’d be able to work things out from there, but then he shut down. He’d say hello to her, throw out the occasional burn, but that was all. Though in comparison to what came in the months to follow, that was a gab-fast.  
  
Jackie picked at the sleeve of her blouse. Steven and Eric were laughing about something she wasn’t part of. It made her angry, which made her angrier at herself. She used to understand Steven better than anyone else did. It was a point of pride for her. He was so complex and deep, and only she, Jackie Burkhart, was insightful enough, sensitive enough—beautiful enough—to dig through all his layers and get to the treasure buried at the center. Only the treasure turned out to be cursed.  
  
Now, she didn’t get him at all.  
  
Over the last few months, his occasional burns at her expense became rarer and rarer still until all she heard from him was silence. If he looked her way, she had no clue if he even saw her. His sunglasses never left his face anymore. She got more acknowledgment from the eyeball ring he always wore on his pinky. At least its blue iris was sometimes angled in her direction.  
  
Jackie shut her eyes. Sitting in the basement made her feel sick, as if she were looking at its distorted reflection through a funhouse mirror. Nothing was right. It hadn’t been for a very long time. She grabbed her purse and slipped outside without saying goodbye. She doubted Steven would have noticed if she had.

***

Eric had missed circle time. Hyde was taking two hits off the joint to Eric’s every one, but Eric knew to start slowly. It had been a while.  
  
“She’s not going to forgive me, man,” Eric said. “I’m gonna go back to Africa and have to marry a chimp.”  
  
“Or you could just nail a chimp and call it a day. Unless she gets pregnant.” Hyde suddenly leaned forward. His dazed expression shifted from content to annoyed. “Do not start _Planet of the Apes,_ man. That would piss me off.”  
  
“Hyde, I’m serious. I mean, Donna got over the whole wedding-thing. Why can’t she get over this? So I broke up with her? So what? I did it to set her free. Because I love her. But she won’t even let me explain it. Why can’t she…” Eric dropped his head onto the wooden table. “God, I am such a dumbass.”  
  
“Glad you finally got it 'cause you can’t have it both ways. You're either with her or you're not.”  
  
”I love her, Hyde.” Eric’s face felt like mush against the table. “What am I supposed to do?”  
  
“Love’s a fantasy, man. Foisted on us by greeting card manufacturers and sellers of heart-shaped candy.”  
  
Eric sat back up. “So you and Jackie really aren’t together, huh?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“You really find her with Kelso?”  
  
“Yup.”  
  
“You think she cheated on you?”  
  
Hyde shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, man. The spell is broken.”  
  
“What spell?” Eric thought for a moment. “Is Jackie a witch?”  
  
Hyde shrugged again and took another hit.  
  
“So you’re really over her?” Eric said.  
  
“It’s like she doesn’t exist.” Hyde was smiling wide. “No effect. Nothing. Unlike this.” He passed the joint to Eric. “But you still got an effect on Donna, so she’ll forgive you, and you two can go back living in your fantasyland. I’ll miss you.”  
  
“I’ll miss you, too.” Eric blinked. The weed was finally taking its proper hold. “Wait, I’m not going anywhere—except back to Africa. And love’s not a fantasy. You’re full of crap, Hyde. Nice… mellow… crap. You really think Donna’ll forgive me?”  
  
“She always does.” Hyde twirled his finger in the air. “And ‘round and ‘round you go.”  
  
“Thanks, man.” Eric felt a little better, but something in Hyde’s tone unsettled him all over again. “Wait, are you being sarcastic?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Good.” Eric blinked a second time. “Wait, do you mean ‘no’ or do you actually mean ‘yes’?”  
  
“It’s a riddle, man. Just like life. Life can trick you into believing things that aren’t really there. But you don’t have to be duped. You can fight the power, man. Rip off your shackles and be free.”  
  
Eric eased back in his chair. Hyde would be of no more help tonight.  
  
The decorations his mother put up seemed otherworldly in the circle’s smoke. The streamers shimmered like pink-and-orange lightning, and the balloons floated like large, shiny bubbles. His welcome home had felt just as surreal. His friends should’ve been waiting for him with open arms. Donna should’ve been so happy to see him she’d forget about the latest dumbass-stunt he’d pulled. But his friends weren’t here, not really.  
  
Fez was literally gone, after Laurie for whatever desperate, perverted reason. Jackie was still Jackie, but she didn’t count. Kelso was busy being a cop. Hyde was—strange, as if Jackie had taken half of him as payment for their breakup. Donna wouldn’t even speak to him.  
  
At least his parents were happy to see him. Soon as he'd walked in the door, his mother smothered him with hugs and kisses and gorged him with food, real food, and his dad seemed genuinely pleased by his presence. He hadn’t mentioned feet or asses or Laurie even once.  
  
Laurie. In spite of himself, Eric missed her. He hadn’t seen his sister in almost three years...  
  
Eric took a long drag off the joint and coughed. It really had been a while.

***

Donna was still reading _Grimm’s Fairy Tales_ when Jackie entered the Pinciottis’ kitchen. How many times had Jackie told her? _Books were for prisoners._  
  
“You really need to put down that brick, Donna,” Jackie said and sat in the chair across from her.  
  
“It’s for a class.”  
  
“Don’t you think you have more important things to do, like making up with Eric?”  
  
Donna slammed the book on the table. “The dillhole left, okay? I stayed behind in freakin’ Point Place, Wisconsin for him, and he left me. And then he breaks up with me because he doesn’t want me to feel 'trapped' by him?”  
  
“You still have a future with him, Donna.”  
  
Donna continued to read.  
  
“Look,” Jackie said, “you two are like the Frog Prince and the Princess. Sure, Eric’s scaly and warty, but with you, he’s almost noble and brave. You’re an idiot if you give that up.”  
  
“Right. He was so brave when he skipped out on our wedding, so noble when he left me for Africa.” Donna scratched at the collective pages of her book with her thumbnail. _Scrrtch. Scrrtch._ “Our relationship was never a happy fairy tale, Jackie. And fairy tales aren’t even all that happy. Disney sanitized them for the masses.”  
  
Jackie groaned. “You sound like Steven.”  
  
“But it’s true.” _Scrrtch!_ “In a lot of fairy tales, girls got their hands chopped off, were raped by their stepfathers. Snow White was almost killed twice before her stepmother actually succeeded.”  
  
”Hah! Snow White. If I’d lived where she did, that stepmother’s mirror would've told her _I_ was the fairest of them all.”  
  
“And then she would’ve tried to kill you.” _Scrrtch.  
  
_ Jackie shrugged. “Price you pay for beauty. You’re lucky you’ll never have to bear that great burden.” She patted Donna’s knee. Donna stopped scratching book pages long enough to brush her away, and Jackie took the opportunity to slide the thick book into her lap. “Fine, if you’re pissed at Eric, at least be pissed at him to his face. Don’t give him the silent treatment. After all your years together, you owe him that.”  
  
“Oh, my God.” Donna covered her mouth. “I get it now.”  
  
“Finally.” Jackie sighed and leaned back in her chair.  
  
“This isn’t about me. This is about you.”  
  
“Wait, what?”  
  
“Yeah!” Donna smiled. “This is about you and Hyde.”  
  
Jackie shook her head. “There is no me and Ste—whatever.”  
  
“I thought you were over him,” Donna was laughing now, “but you’re totally not, are you?”  
  
“No, I am. I am.” Jackie was speaking even too quickly for herself. “I just don’t understand how—Donna, he’s the past. He’s no longer relevant. I’m concentrating on the future now, my future. Which is my job at the TV station, _starting tomorrow._ ” She sang the last two words, to force the cheerfulness into them she should be feeling. She sounded like Mrs. Forman on happy pills.  
  
“If it makes you feel any better, we’ve all noticed how Hyde’s been acting around you. For a while. It’s weird even for him, like you don’t exist for him or something.”  
  
“Yeah…” Jackie felt her shoulders relax. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding them so stiffly. “And that’s what I don’t understand. It’s not that I want to get back together with him. I decided months ago that I deserve someone who treats me like a princess, not like—”  
  
“A person?” Donna said.  
  
“Exactly! And he’s not even doing that anymore. Stupid cheating Michael treated me better than this after our breakups. Steven acts like he never loved me at all.”  
  
_Scrrtch._  
  
Jackie was scratching at the book’s pages in her lap.  
  
_Scrrtch.  
  
_ Steven had loved her. She knew that. He just didn’t love her anymore.  
  
_Scrrtch.  
  
“_ Do you still love Eric?” Jackie said.  
  
“Of course. I just hate him more.”  
  
The sky was darkening through the kitchen windows. Jackie had to get back home, to the apartment she shared with Michael if she wanted to get enough beauty sleep for her big day tomorrow. She placed _Grimm’s Fairy Tales_ back on the table.  
  
“I should get going,” she said and stood up. “I don’t want to get fired on my first day. And with my new boss, that’s a definite possibility.”  
  
Donna stood up, too. “Hey, wait. I have something for you.” She rummaged around in a drawer and pulled out a Dum Dum pop. “For luck.”  
  
“A lollipop?” Jackie stared at it.  
  
“It’s all I could find on such short notice. The store was out of four leaf clovers and rabbits’ feet.”  
  
“Oh. Well, at least the wrapper’s green.” Jackie plucked the pop from Donna’s hand. “Thanks, Donna. And think about what I said.”  
  
“Can’t make any promises, but I’ll think about thinking about it.”  
  
_Donna._ Jackie waved at her dismissively then waved goodbye. The early evening welcomed her with chilly autumn gusts. Point Place was such a tiny town, but small villages were where most fairy tales took place. She’d find her prince eventually. Even if she had to turn over every stinking rock.


	2. Trick of the Light

CHAPTER 2  
 **TRICK OF THE LIGHT**

Jackie hated Mount Hump Park, but she had no choice but to take a shortcut through it to the TV station. Michael had broken the “hot” setting on her hairdryer last night, trying to melt the police badge he'd swiped from a rookie, so she needed twice as long to dry her hair this morning. She glanced at her watch. Twenty minutes before she’d be late.  
  
She stowed her pocketbook under her arm and started to run. Her three-inch heels did okay on the paved path, but the path was curving around a wooded area. It would take too long.   
  
_Damn._ Why was everything so difficult today? She ran onto the dirt and cut through the trees. Branches clawed at her blouse, twigs snagged her hair—she hated parks. So easy to get dirty in them and lost.  
  
The trees grew denser as she went along, and soon a thick branch got in her way. She couldn’t afford to have her perfect skin scratched. What if a producer noticed her and wanted to put her on the air? She pushed the branch aside and moved past it. But then the branch—or maybe it was something worse—slammed into her back with such force she hit the ground.  
  
 _Bark! Bark, bark, bark, bark!  
  
“_ _Ugh!_ ” A dog was standing on top of her back. “Stupid mutt!” She tried to get up, but the damn dog wouldn’t let her. Worse, he licked her face. “ _Eww!_ Stop!”   
  
She searched her pants pockets for something, anything, to take the dog’s attention off her. She found the lollipop Donna had given her for good luck. She definitely needed some of that now. She flung the pop as far away as she could.  
  
The dog leapt off her and went after it.  
  
“Oh, thank God.”  
  
Jackie stood and brushed dirt from her hands, her clothes. The dog, a chocolate lab, was tearing at the lollipop’s wrapper with his teeth and wagging his tail.  
  
“Dumb pooch,” she said. “You remind me of Fez.”   
  
Somewhere through the trees, another dog howled. The chocolate lab perked up his head and dashed back to her. Just what she needed. She tried to get away, but the dog chomped down on a corner of her coat and tugged her forward.   
  
“Get off. Get off me!”   
  
Jackie smacked the dog’s ears, but he didn’t seem to notice. He kept pulling her through the park and didn’t let go until they were out.  
  
Her perfect designer coat was wet from dog slobber. Her perfect hair, which she’d worked on at the crack of dawn, had to be a mess. Her perfect makeup? Streaked with dirt, she was sure. All of her painstaking perfection destroyed by a wretched mutt without a collar. Jackie put her shoulders back and her chin up. None of that mattered. She would not allow her perfect work attendance record to be ruined, too. Granted, this was her first day and had no record yet, but whatever.   
  
She strode forward. The dumb dog trotted after her the same way Fez used to, so she ignored him the same way she used to ignore Fez. If she lost her job because of her appearance, her tardiness—or this dog—she’d deal with it. She’d already lost so much worse.

***

Mitch loved him some early-morning making out. Big Rhonda was a whole lotta woman, and she knew how to use her tongue. He was just glad the park bench could support her weight. His boombox was blaring underneath them. Nothing better than getting some sweet action to the soundtrack of his generation: _Saturday Night Fever._ The Bee Gees kicked so much ass.  
  
The sun shone through the trees. Mitch had never made love to a woman outside in broad daylight before, but he sure as hell was gonna try. He gave Big Rhonda “the tap,” and she pulled herself free of his mouth.  
  
“What is it, sugar cube?” she said.  
  
“What say we move our little tryst to a better location?” He pointed to Mount Hump in the distance.  
  
“Fine with me.”   
  
Mitch picked up his boombox, and a dark shadow fell across him and his date. Three people who looked like creatures from the cantina scene in _Star Wars_ were standing in front of them. Their costumes, because they had to be costumes, were shabbily made. Leather armor mixed with faces of over-sized sharp teeth and huge noses. One was even dressed as a woman with orange hair and a nice pair of leather-clad jugs. He had no idea who they were trying to be.   
  
“Eric Forman, is that you?” Mitch said. “You really can’t tell your Aqualishes from your Trolls, can y—”  
  
The one with the boobs snatched the boombox from him.  
  
“Hey,” Mitch said, “you like the Bee G—”   
  
She smashed Mitch in the face with the boombox, and the blow sent him flying over the bench. His jaw throbbed with pain, but he pulled himself up in time to see Big Rhonda take that female Troll down.   
  
The victory didn’t last long. The two other Trolls yanked Rhonda up and slammed her head into the bench.  
  
Mitch bolted. Before he made it anywhere, the biggest among the Trolls pulled him into a bear hug   
  
“Look, look, I’m sorry I called you Trolls, okay?” Mitch said. “Your costumes are great. They’d win any costume contes—”  
  
The Troll was squeezing him, crushing his ribs. Mitch couldn’t breathe. Then someone slipped his shoes off his feet.  
  
It was the last thing he felt before he passed out.

***  
  


Jackie’s knee was bruised, but she made it to the TV station with five minutes to spare. Now she just had to get through security.  
  
“Your pass?” the security guard said. He sat behind the guard desk and was chewing on a Twix.  
  
“Yeah, it’s just in my—oh, my God.” Jackie’s pocketbook was gone. She must have lost it when the dog pounced on her. Fine. She'd just have to flirt her way in.   
  
“So...”   
  
“No, you can’t have my chocolate,” the security guard said in a baby-voice. The dog was wagging his tail, and his front paws were on the guard’s lap. “But I’ll give you a cuddle.” He pet the dog’s face.   
  
Terrific. Now she was going to be late because she didn't have her I.D. badge, and Mr. Security Man was a dog-loving idiot.  
  
Jackie cleared her throat. “I’m Christine St. George’s assistant, Jackie Burkhart. I lost my—”  
  
The guard flicked his fingers toward the elevator.   
  
“Oh, thank you!”   
  
She rushed to the elevator, and the security guard didn't notice or didn’t care that the dog followed her inside.   
  
They reached her floor. All she wanted to do was get to a bathroom, but Christine’s sharp-eyed receptionist sprang out from behind her desk.   
  
“What is that?” The receptionist pointed at the dog with her pen. At least she hadn’t mentioned Jackie’s less-than-perfect appearance.   
  
The dog jumped onto his hind legs and put his front paws on the receptionist’s breasts. Jackie covered her eyes.   
  
“Oh, Christine’s going to hate you,” the receptionist said in a sweet voice. Jackie uncovered her eyes. The dog was licking the receptionist’s face. She turned to Jackie. “What’s his name?”  
  
“Fez.” Jackie froze. It was the first name that came to her.   
  
“Hello, Fez!” The dog nuzzled the receptionist’s neck. “Wow, so affectionate.”   
  
“Yeah, that’s Fez all right,” Jackie said. “He’s not mine. He’s just—”   
  
The receptionist pulled a key from her pocket. ”Take him to the break room. Don’t let Christine see him in here.”  
  
Huh. So the receptionist wasn't as evil as Jackie had thought. Jackie walked down a corridor with “Fez” and unlocked the break room door. Supposedly, Christine never went in there. Too many “common folk,” which Jackie totally sympathized with. Coffee cups, sugar packets—all very working class. The dog would have to stay in here until her lunch break. Then she’d take him to the pound.  
  
“Don’t bark while you’re in here, or I’ll hit you with my shoe,” she said.  
  
“Fez” licked her hand.  
  
“ _Eww!_ ”   
  
She stepped out and locked the dog inside the room.  
  
“Jackie?” That was Christine’s voice. It carried down the corridor. “Jackie!”   
  
Jackie ran to Christine’s office. She hoped her appearance was decent enough to be ignored, but she could handle Christine’s judgment. Had Steven witnessed her incident in the park today, it would’ve been like Christmas morning for him. Or, worse, he wouldn’t have cared at all.  
  
Jackie slowed her pace. Why did _she_ care? Every time something bad or good happened, her thoughts returned to him. She had to stop that. Just like he’d stopped thinking about her. She opened the door to Christine’s office.  
  
“JACKIE!”   
  
She ran to Christine’s desk. The woman was pretty in a Mary-Tyler-Moore-possessed-by-the-Devil sort of way, and the next four hours consisted of orders, insults, firing threats, praise, more firing threats. Forty-five minutes into what was supposed to be Jackie's lunch break, she heard a crash from the break room.  
  
“What was that?” Christine said.  
  
“Do you want me to check?” Jackie said.  
  
“If you don’t, you’re fired.”  
  
Jackie hurried to the break room and unlocked it. Cans of coffee had fallen, spilling coffee grounds all over the floor. “Fez” stood next to it, tail not wagging.   
  
“You are so dea—”  
  
She stiffened. The coffee grounds had been shaped into a word: _Danger._  
  
Jackie rolled her eyes. _Please._ Did the receptionist think she was that stupid to fall for a hazing ritual like… She looked at her hand. It was holding the key to the break room. The receptionist’s key.  
  
“Did you do that?” she said to “Fez” and felt immediately foolish. Too much circle-time would have explained the delusion, but she hadn’t been in a circle lately—and “Fez’s” right front paw was coated with coffee grounds.   
  
“Okay. Okay,” she said to the dog, “bark once if you think I’m beautiful.”  
  
“Fez” barked once.  
  
“Huh. You’re not as dumb as you look. Bark twice if I’m the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen.”  
  
“Fez” remained silent.  
  
Jackie huffed. ”Fine. Just bark twice.”  
  
“Fez” barked twice.  
  
“Oh, my God.” Jackie clapped. “I have a magic dog!” Either that, or Michael had slipped something special into her breakfast this morning.  
  
“Fez” barked twice, again, and she moved her attention back to the word “Danger”. But then she felt the dog glaring at her. _He was glaring!_  
  
“You actually understand me?” she said.  
  
“Fez” barked once then grabbed her blouse with his teeth. _Ugh._ More slobber. Was she the one in danger? Was the dog? He tugged her out of the room and toward the stairwell.   
  
“The stairs? But I’ll sweat!”  
  
“Fez” growled, and she followed him down the stairs.  
  


***  
  


Jackie brought “Fez” back to her apartment building. Fenton, her landlord, was sleeping on the lobby floor by the mailboxes. His face was covered in pink dust; he must have had a wild night that just ended. He hadn’t even made it back to his apartment.  
  
“The minute I get upstairs,” Jackie said, “I’m calling Michael. He’s a policeman. He’ll know what to do... maybe.”   
  
The elevator had been on the fritz lately, getting stuck between floors, but she risked it. She didn’t want to climb another six flights of stairs. Some repetitive button-pushing coaxed the elevator to take her to her floor. Some more button-pushing, and the doors stuttered open—halfway. It was enough. She and “Fez” squeezed through them.  
  
The hallway was unusually dim. Half the lights had been smashed, and some of her neighbors were sleeping in the middle of the floor. This place was so far below her standard of living, she hadn’t believed it could go any lower. Her neighbors' snoring faces were covered in that pink stuff she saw on Fenton's. So they’d all gone to the same party, and no one had invited her?   
  
_Well._   
  
She tossed back her hair. A party wasn’t a party without Jackie Burkhart.   
  
She picked her way through her unconscious neighbors, but “Fez” had already made it to her apartment. He barked and scratched at her door.  
  
“That’s right,” she said. “How’d you know I—”  
  
The door fell off its hinges. It was completely wrecked, like some idiot had used it for target practice—but no bullet holes. Her heart sped up a little, but she wasn’t about to panic. Michael was totally capable of this kind of destruction. Had the police department finally wised up and taken his gun away, only to replace it with an axe? She entered their apartment hesitantly. Who knew what else he'd done?   
  
She gasped. The sight inside was far worse than she'd imagined. Furniture had been upturned and chopped to bits. The kitchen counter was splintered beyond recognition. The whole place was in shambles.  _Burglars.  
_   
Her clothes!  
  
She charged into her bedroom, and inside were three of the ugliest people she’d ever seen. Uglier than even cockeyed Julie. Two were taller than Donna. One was short in comparison, and all three were in serious need of a makeover. Greasy hair, giant teeth, nose rings and leather clothes and— _ugh!_ They were rifling through her closet.  
  
“Look,” the tallest one said. “Here they are.”  
  
He held one of Jackie's precious designer shoes in his huge, grubby hands and smelled it. She wanted to scream.  
  
“Soft cow,” he said. “Nicey-nice.”   
  
Jackie felt the dog at her side. He was very still and silent. Was this the danger he was trying to warn her about?  
  
The tallest Uggo attempted to slip his giant foot—bigger than Donna’s—into one of her platform shoes.   
Jackie screamed this time. ”Get off my shoes!”   
  
“Hello there, girly,” said the other tall one. It was a  _she._ Her hair was all frizzy and orange and yuck. She gathered a bunch of Jackie’s shoes into her arms. “These have been very well-cared for.”   
  
“Of course they have!” Jackie put her hands on her hips. The other two Uggos had successfully crammed their feet into mismatched boots.   
  
“You have nice shoes,” the shortest Uggo said. His voice sounded like it belonged to a frog. “And so tiny.”  
  
“Who the hell are you? What do you want with my shoes?” Jackie said.  
  
“Fez” was nowhere to be seen. Smart dog.   
  
The tallest Uggo stepped forward and bowed. “I am Burly the Troll, feared throughout the Nine Kingdoms.”   
  
“I am Blabberwort the Troll,” said the she-Uggo, “dreaded throughout the Nine Kingdoms.”  
  
The short one snarled as he said, “And I’m Bluebell the Troll, terrified throughout the Nine Kingdoms.”   
  
“Nine Kingdoms. Right…” Jackie backed away. These people were higher than that dirty old hippie, Leo.  
  
Burly roared and pulled out an axe. He chopped her bed in half, tore her pink unicorn duvet cover to shreds.   
  
“So,” he pointed the axe at her, “where is he?”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jackie said.  _Crazy hophead “Trolls”._   
  
“The Prince!” Blabberwort shouted. Her orange hair seemed to grow frizzier by the second.   
  
Jackie snorted. “You tell me. All I know are nerds, pervs, doofuses, and burnouts.”   
  
“We want the dog.” Blabberwort grabbed Jackie by the shoulders and squeezed. Jackie cried out. “We are going to count to three, and then we’re going to make you into a pair of shoes.” The Troll let go of her.   
  
“One!” Burly took out a pair of scissors and snipped them in front of Jackie’s face. “I’ll cut the shoes.”  
  
Blabberwort pulled out a small, curved knife and held it at Jackie’s wrist. ”Two—”  
  
“Fine! Fine! One is enough,” Jackie said. Her heart was pounding like a stampede of wild horses. “I’ll tell you where he is. Here’s here. He’s just... outside.”   
  
“Show us! Take us to him!” Burly gripped Jackie’s arm.  
  
The Trolls yanked her out of the apartment. Her neighbors were still sleeping and snoring. Burly kicked one of them.   
  
“Aren’t you glad you sprang for the good stuff?” he said. “Cheap Troll dust would’ve worn off by now.”  
  
Bluebell growled low. ”But we could’ve used those coins for more magic mushrooms!”   
  
“Nicey-nice. That's true—”   
  
“Shut up,” Blabberwort said. Then she shouted at Jackie, ”Where is he?”  
  
Jackie had no idea where “Fez” had gone. “He’s hiding.” She pointed to the elevator. “Behind those doors.”   
  
The Trolls dragged her to the elevator, and she pressed the call-button. The doors opened immediately, halfway.   
  
“That room was not there a moment ago,” Burly said. “You are crafty.”   
  
They tried to bring Jackie inside the elevator with them, but they couldn’t all fit.   
  
“Wait, we have to—” Burly let her go and shoved his body into the elevator.  
  
“But I—” Bluebell let her go, too, and squashed himself beside the other Troll.  
  
“Hey! Move over!” Blabberwort let Jackie go and crammed herself inside the elevator. The doors were closing. “Hah! Okay, girlie, come join us.”  
  
“I’ll take the next one,” Jackie said. The elevator doors clanged shut in front of the Trolls’ puzzled faces.   
  
“Open the door!” Blabberwort said. “Open the door!”  
  
The Trolls beat on the elevator from the inside, but the doors didn’t open.   
  
Jackie nodded once in victory.  _Troll dust. Dwarf moss._ _Nine Kingdoms._ Those were three drugs she’d never touch. In fact, next time Donna invited her for a circle, she wouldn’t go.  
  
“Fez” finally showed his fuzzy face. He bounded up to her and licked her hand.  
  
“ _Eww!_ Stop doing that! God, you really are like Fez.” She wiped her hand on his fur. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”  
  
Jackie didn’t want to leave her shoes or her clothes—but she had bigger worries, hard to believe. The elevator wouldn’t keep those maniacs long. She had to get somewhere safe and try to get a hold of Michael. 


	3. The Good Bargain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 3  
**THE GOOD BARGAIN**   


Fenton was sprawled out by the mailboxes, sleeping like a puppy, with pink powder all over him. He must have had a rager, and Kelso wished he’d been there instead of directing traffic all day. If he never saw another car or kid, it would be too soon. Directing traffic by an elementary school sucked. They even made him wear a neon orange sash. A whole day spent being kicked by second graders and mocked by third graders. He wasn’t even allowed to bring his gun, just his billy club.  
  
Kelso went to the elevator. The doors were warped, like the Hulk had punched them from the inside or maybe some really hot elevator sex had gone on without him. He pressed the call button, but he was so ready for a nap he went to the stairs without waiting. He needed beer and he needed sleep and a whole bunch of both. He could’ve gone to the Formans’ for a welcome-back circle with Eric, but he was too bummed out for that. Being assigned as Point Place Elementary’s crossing guard for the whole week had really ruined his day.   
  
Some hero he was. What was he supposed to tell his daughter when she could finally understand English? That her daddy was the police department's stooge?   
  
Kelso reached the sixth floor and looked around the hallway in confusion. Half the lights were broken. His neighbors were passed out like Fenton and covered in pink powder, too. It seemed the whole building had participated in Fenton’s rager, and Kelso should’ve been there. If not to party then at least to bust the thing up. That was a job for a police officer. Bossing people around, saying cool things like _Freeze, dirtbag!_ and, maybe, occasionally, helping someone—those were the reasons he signed up to be a cop. Not to wear a neon orange sash. No one in the department took him seriously. He was glad to be off duty.   
  
_Off duty._ He laughed at that. Fez would have laughed, too, had he been around.  
  
Kelso went to his front door, only the door wasn’t there. It was lying inside his apartment, splintered like someone had taken an axe to it. Okay, now he was getting pissed. He stepped past the door into his living room—what used to be his living room. All the furniture was messed up, torn to shreds, and he'd had nothing to do with it. What the hell was that? His neighbors had thrown a rager he wasn’t part of and used his apartment for it? Kelso pulled a beer from the fridge...  
  
He was going to arrest every pink-faced person here.  
  
“Good evening!”   
  
A man jumped out from Kelso’s bedroom—and Kelso shrieked and threw his beer can against the wall.   
“Hey, are you the guy who wrecked my apartment?” Kelso said. “’Cause that’s not cool.”  
  
“Me? No. I suspect Trolls,” the guy said.   
  
“Trolls?” Kelso laughed. “That makes no sense.”   
  
The guy clapped his hands once. “No matter! Tonight, and tonight only, I am authorized to make you,” he pointed at Kelso, “a unique offer. Namely, the end to all your personal and financial problems.”  
  
“Did I win a sweepstakes?” Kelso looked the guy up and down. He had no idea who he was. Weren’t sweepstakes spokesmen supposed to be white-haired old guys in suits? This guy had to be in his early thirties, and he wore pinstriped pants and a pinstriped jacket over a wifebeater.   
  
“Listen, buddy,” Kelso took out his badge, “I'm a cop, so if this is a scam, I’m totally going to know.”  
  
“Please, call me Wolf.” The guy—Wolf—propped his boot up on an overturned chair. Then he pulled a small, enameled box from his pocket. He flipped open the top, and a tendril of light shot out of it. The light stank like one of Eric’s farts mixed with cinnamon, but there was something enticing about it, too.   
Kelso peered inside the box. A black bean smaller than a peach pit sat on a straw cushion.  
  
Wolf stepped closer to him. “Under the terms of this policy, I am—in exchange for information as to the whereabouts of your roommate—able to offer you this magic bean that, once eaten, will give you seven glorious wishes.”  
  
Kelso snorted. ”Come on.” This had to be a setup. Hyde had to be pulling some kind of cross-town burn on him, but wishes usually came out of magic lamps, right? And in threes.   
  
Wolf picked up a broken picture frame and studied the picture. It was of Jackie. Her pocketbook was on the floor, tossed there like it was a dirty sock.  
  
“Is this your roommate?” Wolf said. “Not a lot of meat on her.”   
  
“Uh, yeah.” Kelso stared at the bean. “I guess.”   
  
Wolf put down the frame and plucked the bean from the box. A halo of light surrounded it. Kelso scratched his head. What kind of bean gave off light? Where would Hyde get such a thing?   
  
Wolf placed the bean into Kelso’s hand, and Kelso’s eyes widened. The bean was bouncing around in his palm.  
  
“What the hell is it doing?”  
  
Wolf grinned. “Seven big wishes. Imagine having anything you desire.”   
  
Kelso could imagine it all right. The bean hopped up and down in his hand and tickled his skin. Maybe it was true. A huge smile spread across his face. Maybe, finally, something awesome like this was actually true.  
  
“And from the look of your modest surroundings,” Wolf said, “I’m sure there are many things you’d love to change.”  
  
“Oh, yeah!” Kelso clutched the bean in his hand. “Wait, no. No, this is a joke, right? A burn—it’s gotta be.”   
  
Wolf yanked a contract from inside of his jacket. ”No! No, it’s a standard, multiple wishes deal. Seven wishes. No going back on wishes once made. No making six wishes and wishing for another thousand.” He flapped the contract in the air frantically. ”Come on! Is that a fair deal or what?” Then he took out a pen. “Now where is your lovely roommate?”   
  
“What do you want her for?” Kelso glanced down at the bean.  
  
“Simply to reclaim my little doggy, which she found earlier.”  
  
“A dog?”   
  
Wolf held the pen in front of Kelso’s face. “There’s even a reward involved, which I intend to give her _personally_.” Orange light blazed in his eyes, and Kelso found himself reaching for the pen. Strange, since his brain hadn’t ordered his arm to that. Or maybe it had. His mind was always doing things he didn’t know about.   
  
“She wouldn’t be at the Formans’,” Kelso said. He was signing the contract. “Not with Hyde there and all. She’s probably at her old place, and maybe her really hot mom's home with her.”  
  
“Does this hot mother like flowers?” Wolf said.  
  
“She likes money. Oh, and booze—oh! And young, dark-skinned guys.”   
  
“Address, please,” Wolf said.   
  
Kelso wrote the Burkhart mansion’s address on the back of the contract. Which was weird ‘cause he didn't actually remember deciding to do that.   
  
Wolf patted him on the back and took the contract from him. “It’s been a pleasure.” He headed for the door.  
  
“Wait, hold on a second!” Kelso said. The bean was still bouncing in his fist. “How long does it take for this to work?   
  
“Oh, don’t worry,” Wolf said. “The first three hours are the worst.” He bowed and disappeared through doorless front door.  
  
But Kelso wasn’t really paying attention. “Anything I want, huh?” He held the bean up and contemplated it. Looked like a Milk Dud coated in black paint. Still smelled like one of Eric’s farts, but Eric’s farts weren’t magic. He hoped it didn’t taste like one, too.   
  
Kelso leaned his head back, pinched his nose, and swallowed the bean like a pill. It went down his throat hard.  
  
“All right.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Wish-time. For my first wish—”  
  
His stomach seized up with pain so bad he doubled over.   
  
“For my first wi—” He tried again, but it was no good. His intestines were in spasm, like the time Eric and Donna fed him brownies laced with Chocolate Super-Lax. Felt like someone had shoved white-hot knives under his bellybutton.   
  
Hadn't that guy say the first three hours were the worst?   
  
“Oh, God!”   
  
He clenched his butt cheeks and ran to the bathroom.

***

It had taken Jackie and the dog almost an hour to walk across town to the Burkhart Mansion, but to Jackie’s great surprise her mother was actually in Point Place this week. She’d greeted Jackie at the door with a bubbly smile on her face and a bubbly drink in her hand.   
  
“Of course you can stay tonight, honey.” Pam’s voice sounded like wind chimes, as always. “But what’s with the mutt? He can’t possibly be yours.”  
  
“He’s not a mutt. He’s a chocolate lab... I think.”   
  
“Chocolate? Well, his coat _is_ nice.” Pam waved into the house. “Okay, he can come in, but he can’t stay in my room. I don’t want him getting dog hair all over everything. Bob's was bad enough.”  
  
“He won’t. Thanks, Mom.”  
  
Jackie and “Fez” followed Pam into the living room. It had less furniture than Jackie remembered, and the piano was gone. Sold off because her mom was between rich boyfriends. The bar, however was fully stocked. Pam poured her a drink. Jackie refused it.   
  
“Sweetheart, the night’s young,” Pam said.   
  
“Yeah, I’m not really thirsty. Or hungry.”   
  
“Boy trouble?” Pam sipped at the drink she’d intended for Jackie.   
  
“Nope. Not for half-a-year.”   
  
“Oh, haven’t you gotten over that scruffy what’s-his-name yet? Sure, he had a certain rich-father charm, but... what was his name? Sven. Simon?”   
  
“Steven. And, yes, I’m over him. Way over him. I’ve just been too busy working on my career to concentrate on men.”   
  
Pam walked out from behind the bar and put her arm around Jackie’s shoulders. “But there’s plenty of time for work after you get married. Man first. Then career. Haven’t I always taught you that?” She took another swallow of what was now definitely _her_ drink.   
  
“Fez” barked and padded towards the kitchen. Jackie stared at him. How did he know where it was? Did he smell it?   
  
“Sounds like _one of you_ is hungry.” Pam laughed her trilling laugh. “Tell Cook to fix him some roast chicken.”  
  
“Wait,” Jackie said, “you can still afford to pay Cook? I thought you only kept Maria on.”   
  
Pam shut her eyes and shook her head as if waking from a daydream. “Oh, sorry.” She raised her glass. “Guess I’ve had a little too much tonight. But there really is roast chicken in the refrigerator.”   
  
“Fez” barked again and dashed through the swinging door of the kitchen.  
  
Jackie went in after him. She should’ve been calling the pound instead of pulling out a half-eaten chicken from the fridge. But “Fez” seemed to worship her—much like the real Fez used to—the way he followed her all the time and wagged his tail. She missed that. Keeping the pooch around a little longer couldn’t hurt.  
  
She placed the platter of chicken on the floor with a bowl of water, and the dog attacked both as if he were starving. That would keep him busy for a while.  
  
When Jackie returned to the living room, Pam was sitting on the couch with a fresh drink. Today had been so crazy. Jackie couldn't quite get a handle on it. She sat next to her mom and picked up the phone.   
  
_Ring. Ring._ Michael wasn’t answering at their apartment. _Ring. Ring. Ring._ Or, maybe, he couldn’t answer. She hung up the phone. Those hopped-up, maniac “Trolls” must have gotten out of the elevator by now. What if they'd found him?   
  
She dialed the police station but hung up before she finished. What was she going to say? _Hi, I think my roommate’s been kidnapped by Trolls?  
  
_ Against her better judgment, she dialed the Formans’.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Jackie slammed down the receiver. Steven. She couldn’t talk to him. Even to find out if Michael had shown up in the basement. In all likelihood, he was there. One look at their trashed apartment, and he'd probably raced straight to a circle.   
  
Wetness prickled at the corners of Jackie's eyes, but she buried her face in a cushion before any tears could fall. Everything was such a mess. No apartment. No job. No boyfriend. A dog that wrote warnings in coffee grounds, Trolls obsessed with shoes. This wasn’t her life. It was more like something out of Donna’s book of fairy tales. Only she wasn’t a princess. She didn’t know what she was.   
  
“Oh, honey.” Pam rubbed her back. ”You’ll get over him someday. I got over your daddy, didn’t I? You just need to find a nice, rich b—”  
  
“Mom, this isn’t about Steven. It’s—you know what? Never mind. I think I will have that drink.”  
  
All she really wanted to do was sleep. Maybe in the morning, everything would make sense. It had to. She demanded it.

***

Kelso awoke on the toilet. His ass hurt a little, but the rest of him felt so much better. The bathroom stank like shit. His shit. He flushed and prayed the toilet didn’t overflow. That had been one wild, crappy night. He never knew he had that much in him.   
  
Someone was banging on the front door. No. On the door frame. The door was in pieces on the carpet. Kelso pulled up his pants and walked on shaky legs. Fenton was leaning leisurely against the front door's frame. His face was clean of the pink powder, but he wore his typical smarmy smile.  
  
“So you threw a party,” he said in a syrupy drawl, “and decided to demolish the building in the process. I thought cops were supposed to serve and protect. I don’t feel protected. Or served.”   
  
Kelso shook his head vehemently ”No, no, it wasn’t me! It was…” What had that guy with the flashing eyes said? Right. “It was Trolls!”  
  
“Trolls.” Fenton frowned. “Well, I’m the landlord. The lord—”  
  
“Of the land,” Kelso said with him. He’d heard it a hundred times. It was Fenton’s favorite saying.   
  
“Yes. First I’m gonna have you and your pretty little roommate arrested for vandalism. Then I’m gonna evict you. Then I’m gonna sue your pretty little asses.” Fenton angled his head toward Kelso's backside. “Yours is prettier, by the way.” He started to leave.   
  
“Thanks—no! Wait!”  
  
“What?” Fenton said. “You can’t sleep your way out of this.”   
  
Kelso burped, and it tasted like a rotten cinnamon stick. ”I didn’t do it!” Jackie was going to kill him when she found out they were evicted. “Man...” He slapped the door frame with both hands. “Why don’t people ever believe me? You know what I wish? I wish you believed me all the time, no matter what I said. No matter how dumb or stupid or—unlikely.”  
  
“Good luck on that.”  
  
“Yeah, like the time you woke up next to a dead rat? I didn’t put it there. I saw one of the neighbors’ cats sneak into your apartment. It probably had sex with the rat on your bed!”   
  
“Hmm. I’m sorry I missed that.” Fenton took out his wallet and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill. “I guess I owe you a hundred-and-fifty bucks. Consider this a down payment.” He gave Kelso the fifty. “I shouldn’t have made you replace my quilt.”   
  
Kelso stared at the money in his hand; then he stared at Fenton. At the money. At Fenton.   
  
_I wish you believed me all the time..._  
  
Keslo raised his arms in victory. ”Allll riiiiiiiiiiiight!” The magic bean worked. It worked! “Okay, okay.” His breathing sped in and out of him. “Okay, if you un-evict me, fix up my apartment so it’s good as new—throw in a 20-inch color TV—and let me and Jackie live here rent-free, you’ll be really, really happy.”  
  
“Really?” Fenton’s eyes were glazed over, as if he’d been in a circle. “I like the sound of that. Consider it done.” He edged past Kelso into the apartment and studied the mess of broken furniture. “Tsk. This will never do. I’ll have to call in maintenance—and Sears. Oh, and a new rental agreement will have to be written up.” He stepped outside the apartment again. “So much to do, but happiness never comes easy, does it? Unlike Frankie.” He tsked once more and left.   
  
“Oh, my God,” Kelso said. Then he made some sounds he only let chicks hear. He had to sit down. No, he had to go to the police station. The sergeant was expecting him to be in his orange neon sash an hour-and-a-half ago, and—who the hell cared? He had power. Magic power. Six wishes left. He could do whatever he wanted.   
  
“I gotta tell the guys!” he shouted and flew from the apartment.

***

Morning light streamed into Jackie’s pink bedroom and warmed her childhood bed. She was sweating. She never sweated in this bed except when she and Steven had… She ripped the comforter off her body. “Fez” was underneath, his furry head resting on her stomach. The dog had slept with her all night. She vaguely remembered him humping her leg.  
  
Jackie shoved him to the floor. She needed a shower. Bad. She grabbed a bathrobe from her closet, chose an outfit to wear for the day. She probably didn’t have a job anymore, but she was damn well going to dress as if she did. A violet trouser suit with a Missoni knitwear shirt underneath. Four-inch Gucci heels. Great clothing always brightened her mood.   
  
So would that shower.   
  
She started to undress. “Fez” was watching her, tail wagging. Something about the way his tongue lolled over the side of his mouth unnerved her. It was too familiar. She stopped unbuttoning her flannel top and locked him out of her room—same as she would’ve done to the real Fez.  
  
Once she was clean and her hair was styled to her liking, she got dressed and knocked on her mother’s door. Pam hadn’t made an appearance yet this morning. Too much alcohol to sleep off. But Jackie wanted to say goodbye before she left for—wherever.  
  
“Mom, are you up yet?”   
  
“In here, darling!” Pam called from inside her bedroom. Her voice sounded strange. More like a brass bell than a wind chime.  
  
“Mom?” Jackie turned the knob. Her mother was in bed, completely covered by sheets. “Good morning... or bad hangover?” Jackie said. “You want some coffee?”  
  
She opened the curtains in front of the windows. Sunlight poured in, and her mother let out a muffled whimper from the sheets. She really was covered. Jackie couldn’t even see her head.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Jackie said. “Too much tequila even for you?” She pulled the sheets off her mother’s face.  
  
“Surprise!” A man sprang from the bed and grabbed her. “Who fed you as a child?” He whipped out potato. “You need some fattening up!”   
  
“Mom!” Jackie shouted. The man was no longer holding her. He was younger than her mom by at least ten years. Dark slicked-back hair. A pinstriped suit. “Mom!” she shouted again. “Control your damn one-night stand!” She ran for the door.   
  
“Oh, no, you don’t!” He lunged in front of her and blocked her way out. “Where is the dog? Sleeping in, if I know royalty.” Jackie shrugged, and the man sniffed her. “You smell like Monday appetizers.” His eyes flashed orange, and she sucked in a breath.  
  
_Oh, God._ Another hopped-up maniac like those “Trolls,” only far better looking.   
  
He bounded forward and snarled.  
  
“Get away from me!” She kicked him in the shin. Hard.   
  
The man howled in pain and clutched his leg. Jackie shot past him into the hallway and almost tripped over a push broom.  _Maria._ The maid. She must have been scared off and left the broom on the floor. One of the windows was open, too. Jackie leaned out of it and peered below. It was too high a distance to jump.   
  
“Let me put your mind at ease.” The man stood in front of Pam’s room. His voice was a low growl. “Now that I’ve seen you, eating you is definitely on the agenda.”  
  
She didn’t want to know what he meant. She picked up the broom and twirled it in front of her like a baton.  
  
“Oh.” He grinned at her. “We’ve started badly. “But I take all the blame for that. The name’s Wolf.” He snarled, again, and leapt forward.   
  
Jackie struck him in the face with the brush-end of the broom. He stumbled backwards.   
  
“Come on,” Wolf said. “Give us a chance. You might even enjo—”  
  
She thrust the broom's stick into his groin. He didn’t howl this time. He groaned and doubled-over.  
  
“You are one flavorful lady, no question there.” He was already recovering. “Tasty or what?” he growled.  
  
Jackie felt a growl rumbling in her own throat. First Trolls. Now a wolf who wanted to eat her—really eat her. She slammed the broom into his neck, and he toppled out the open window.   
  
_“Awooo!”_   
  
He crashed onto a pile of garbage bags below. Where the hell were these crazy people coming from? She watched for a moment to make sure he was unconscious. Then she ran downstairs.  
  
Her arm reached for the phone—to call the police, to call Michael—and a high-pitched scream, like a teakettle, echoed from the kitchen.  
  
_Mom!  
  
_ Jackie rushed inside the swinging door. “Oh, my God.”   
  
Tied up in a roasting pan, covered with potatoes and carrots, was her mother.


	4. My Best Wish Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 4  
 **MY BEST WISH EVER**

“Playing with the shock collar's finally killed whatever brain cells you have left, man. You're worse than Leo.”  
  
Hyde was leaning against the register counter at Grooves, and he didn't know whether to laugh in Kelso's face or punch him in the eye.  
  
“But it's true!” Kelso said. “I ate a magic bean!”  
  
“Whatever.” Hyde reached behind him and grabbed an ABBA record someone had returned earlier. He seriously considered hurling it at Kelso's head. His routine was on the verge of being compromised. Hyde had walked into his store today at the regular time, two hours after the new guy had opened it, expecting the usual: Sell some records. Have a private circle in his office. Eat. Sell some more records. Another circle, but Kelso's bullshit story had thrown him off schedule.  
  
“I already got fifty bucks because of it,” Kelso said.  
  
Hyde really wanted to chuck the record at him. He shoved it into the new guy's hands instead.  
  
“Burn this.”  
  
“With matches or the blowtorch?” New Guy said.  
  
“You have to ask?”  
  
New Guy nodded and went into the storeroom. He really wasn't all that new. He'd been around for three months, ever since Leo went on an “extended leave of absence”. Hyde just didn't like his name, so he called him New Guy.  
  
“Smell this.” Kelso inhaled deep and blew into Hyde's face. His breath reeked as bad as his story.  
  
“What the hell did you eat, man?” Hyde waved in front of his nose to dissipate the smell. “One of Forman's farts?”  
  
“I told you. A magic bean. I got six wishes left.”  
  
Hyde raised an eyebrow. “Prove it. Wish me a sandwich.”  
  
“No way! I'm not wasting one of these babies on something that small—and for you. I'm wishing big!”  
  
“Then shut up and do it already.”  
  
“Fine!” Kelso rubbed his chin, and his his eyes got that wide, glassy look that usually accompanied his thoughts. “Man, this is hard. I wish I could think of something to wish for—oh!“ He hit the counter. “I got it! I wish for an endless supply of beer!”  
  
Nothing happened. No cloud of smoke. No burst of light. And no beer.  
  
Hyde smirked. “Man, you get dumber every year.”  
  
Outside, a truck rumbled down the street, and it sounded like it was slowing down. Hyde glanced out the window. If some asshole thought he was going to block his store...  
  
It was a Schlitz truck.  
  
Hyde took off his shades. “No way...”  
  
A delivery man hopped out of the truck and opened the back. He piled cases of beer onto a cart and wheeled them into the store.  
  
“Delivery for Michael Kelso.”  
  
“H'oh!” Kelso gasped and jabbed a finger in Hyde's face. “BURN!” Then he started hopping around the delivery guy like an idiot.  
  
“Kelso!” Hyde grabbed him by the shirt collar. This had to be a scam. “Are you fucking with me? Did you bust a supplier, and he bribed you for his freedom?”  
  
“No! This is really happening.” He laughed wildly. “We got free beer. Forever!”  
  
Definitely a scam.  
  
“Okay,” Hyde let go of Kelso's shirt and slid on his shades, “say I believe you—which I don't—he can't drop these off here.”  
  
Kelso scratched the back of his head. “Uh... my apartment's kind of messed up right now.”  
  
“Right. ' The Trolls'.”  
  
“Hey! How about the Formans'? Red likes beer.”  
  
Hyde shrugged. “Works for me. New Guy!” he shouted into the back. “Take care of the store. Got a business meeting.”  
  
“Will do, Mr. Hyde!”  
  
“Why do you keep calling him 'New Guy'? Kelso said on their way out. “I thought his name was Jack.”  
  
“Whatever.” Hyde slung his arm around Kelso's shoulders. “Let's go and drink us some beer, man. Forever's not gonna last forever.”

***

They'd only been drinking for a half-hour, but the basement already reminded Kelso of the beer warehouse Charlie's father owned. Cases of Amber Draft, Schlitz, and Murphy's were stacked floor-to-ceiling in every corner. Eric and Donna were there, too, and they'd stopped fighting long enough to chug a few. Good thing 'cause no way were Kelso and Hyde gonna be able to finish all this by themselves before Red got home.  
  
“Man, Fez chose such a lousy time not to beer—I mean 'be here,'” Kelso said.  
  
“You know, I'm really starting to worry about him.” Donna was sitting in Fez's chair, holding her fourth Amber Draft, “He hasn't called anyone. He hasn't even sent a letter.”  
  
Kelso cracked open his fifth beer. “Maybe he and Laurie are having such mind-blowing sex that he  _can't_ speak or write.”  
  
“Or, maybe... she killed him,” Eric said.  
  
“I heard sex can do that.” Kelso burped. A tendril of light whipped out of his mouth and dissolved into the air.  
  
“Did you really swallow a magic bean?” Eric said.  
  
“Yeah. I got five wishes left.”  
  
“Four, you moron,” Hyde said from his usual chair. “You wished to know what to wish for, remember?  
  
“Hyde, maybe you've had enough.” Donna drained the last drop of her Amber Draft. “You sound like you actually believe him.”  
  
Hyde took a swallow of Schlitz. “I don't. I think he made a deal with Charlie's dad, or—” He belched. No light burst from his mouth.  
  
“Kelso, wish for something else. Prove him wrong.” Eric leapt on top of the couch cushions and pumped his fist in the air. “I want to believe, man. I want to believe!”  
  
Donna threw her empty beer can at him. “It's not the Force, dink. It's more like Aladdin's lamp. Or Jack and the Beanstalk.”  
  
“I'm already way ahead of you, Eric,” Kelso said. “For my next wish, I wish—”  
  
Hyde interrupted him. “'For my next wish, I wish...' You sound like a jackass.”  
  
“You know what I wish?” Eric tossed Donna's empty beer can at Hyde's head. “For you to shut up!” Then he turned to Kelso. “Make your wish, buddy.”  
  
“Thanks, Eric.” Kelso stood up—because big wishes like this demanded some formality—and rolled his beer can between his palms. “Okay, I wish all the chicks in Point Place... No, I've already done most of 'em at least three times. I wish all the chicks in Wisconsin—no— _America_ wanted to do me. And by 'do,' I mean 'nail'—wait. I mean 'screw'—no—fuck! Yes, I wish all the chicks in America wanted to fuck me... No uggos.” He sank back into the couch. “That was close. I could've had a bunch of girls chasing after me with screwdrivers and hammers. That one time last June was enough.”  
  
“Kelso!” Donna hurtled out of Fez's chair and straddled him. “I want you to...” She whispered the last part in his ear. Several of Kelso's body parts raised, including his arms.  
  
“Oh, yeah! Finally, I get to do 'Big D'!”  
  
“Uh... no, you don't.” Eric tapped Donna on the shoulder. “Okay, Donna, you can stop humoring him now—  
  
“Don't you mean 'humping,' Forman?”  
  
“Shut up, Hyde! This isn't funny.”  
  
“Says who, man?”  
  
Kelso really shouldn't have been enjoying this, but Donna was sucking on his neck and running her hands underneath his shirt. He should've made the wish to exclude her—but, man! Who thought of these things? And he was having trouble thinking at all because Donna had put her hand down his pants.  
  
“Donna!” Eric tried to pull her off but, luckily, didn't have the strength.  
  
Hyde, though, finally stopped laughing long enough to grab her around the waist. She struggled against him, but his grip was apparently too strong.  
  
“Aw, man.” Kelso crossed his arms and slumped against the couch cushions.  
  
“Kelso, what the hell?” Eric said.  
  
“What?” Kelso grabbed another beer. “She's not even your girlfriend anymore.”  
  
Eric advanced on him, but he pulled back when Mrs. Forman called from the top of the basement stairs:  
  
“ _Michael? Michael, are you down here?_   
“Oh, shit.” Eric jerked his head left and right as if he were looking for something. “What are we gonna do? She's gonna freak when she sees all this beer!”  
  
“Uh, I don't think she's gonna notice, man,” Hyde nodded toward the stairs. His grip was still solidly around Donna's waist.  
  
Eric tried covering a stack of cases with his coat. “Why n—oh, no...”  
  
Mrs. Forman was now standing at the foot of the stairs. She wore more makeup than Kelso had ever seen her in, and her red lipstick kinda reminded him of Laurie.  
  
“Michael, I've come for you,” Mrs. Forman said.  
  
Hyde smirked. “Not yet, she hasn't.”  
  
“Shut up, man!” Eric frogged him and ran to his mother. He was blocking her way into the basement. “Mom, go upstairs.”  
  
“But I came—” She unbuttoned the first button of her blouse. “I came to see Michael.”  
  
“Mic—Kelso's busy.”  
  
“Oh.” Mrs. Forman looked past Eric's shoulder. “But I really need to see him.”  
  
“No, you don't!”  
  
Kelso watched with an amused grin as Eric struggled to keep his mother away. Oh, man, this was the best burn since Fred Flintstone invented fire! And he was about to make that fact known when the basement's back door slammed open. Jackie and her mother barged inside—and so did a dog.  
  
“Michael...” Jackie said.  
  
“Michael!” Pam said.  
  
They darted between stacks of beer cases and started pawing at Kelso's body.  
  
“'Dear Penthouse...'” Kelso rolled his eyes to the ceiling in happiness. He'd done two chicks at once before, but never a hot mother-daughter combo. And never in front of his friends. His mind began to drift to the Pleasure Palace of Love. But then he felt something whap his leg and tumbled back into the basement. It was the wagging tail of the dog.  
  
“You wanna watch, boy?” Kelso removed his hand from Jackie's ass long enough to pet the dog's fur.  
  
“Okay, you're done.” Hyde was standing in front of him, scowling. “Un-wish this.”  
  
“No way! You and Jackie haven't been together in s-s-s—” What Kelso was going to say was  _six months,_ but Pam had pulled up her shirt and—  
  
“Screw Jackie, man. You're gonna have all of Wisconsin here in about five minutes. What the hell are you gonna do then?”  
  
“Enjoy it?” Like Kelso was enjoying Pam's boobs. “Oh, and I think I will screw Jackie. She was mine first, anymmmph!” Jackie shoved her tongue into his mouth.  
  
Kelso hadn't thought this burn could get any better,  _but it so had._ Some hand-action from Eric's ex-chick, some tongue-action from Hyde's ex-chick... Swallowing that magic bean was the greatest thing Kelso had ever done. Finally, one of his kick-ass fantasies turned out to be true! If only Fez were around to watch instead of this dog—and everyone else.  
  
“Get out of here, Hyde,” he managed to spit out between kisses. “And take Eric, Donna, and Mrs. Forman with you—or I'll wish for that next,”  
  
“Oh, yeah?” Hyde let go of Donna and lunged for him.  
  
“No! I don't want you in my sexy circle. Get off!”  
  
Hyde yanked him to his feet and held up a fist. “Un-wish it, Kelso, or I'll make you wish you were never born!”  
  
“But the guy who gave me the bean said I couldn't go bahhhh...”  
  
Two of the three ladies had started going to town below the belt. Jackie, though, turned around to face Hyde.  
  
“Steven...” she kneed him in the balls, “stop keeping me from my man!”  
  
Hyde grunted and bent over, and Kelso saw his chance. He bolted from the basement with Donna, Jackie, and Pam all chasing behind.  
  
He didn't make it far. Beer cases were piled at the top of the stone stairs like a brick wall.  
  
“Kelso!” Donna pushed him against the beer wall and kissed him deeply. She was sucking on his tongue. No wonder Forman wanted her back. He let himself get lost in the moment until Pam and Jackie pulled her off.  
  
“He's mine, you big lumberjack,” Jackie said.  
  
“Jackie,” Pam stepped in front of her, “age and beauty before just beauty.”  
  
“Ladies, there's enough of me to share.”  
  
“I never share!” Jackie launched herself into Kelso's arms, which sent him staggering backward. The beer wall teetered behind him.  
  
“Get off him!” Donna shouted and pried Jackie from his body. A case of beer crashed onto the stairs.  
  
Kelso didn't like where this was heading. Female voices were calling from the other side of the wall.  
  
“ _Michael! Michael!_ ”  
  
The beer wall started to shake, and Pam shrieked in pain. A case had slammed into her back. Kelso definitely didn't like where this was heading. He ran back down toward the basement, and more cases banged onto the stairs. Beer cans flew out. Some hit him in the legs, and Donna, Jackie, and Pam followed him before the wall completely collapsed behind them.  
  
“Michael! Michael!”  
  
A crowd of women, maybe every every chick in Point Place, stood at the top of the stairs. Some had their tops off. Some were completely naked.  
  
“Hello,” Kelso said.  
  
They stampeded after him. The stairs vibrated under the force of their footsteps, and Kelso reached the basement door just as Hyde was opening it.  
  
“Too many boobs!” Kelso said and pushed past him. Jackie, Donna, and Pam followed behind.  
  
Hyde shoved the door closed and locked it, but it wouldn't stay shut for long. The door was already shuddering.  
  
“For the love of God, Kelso,” Eric was still restraining his mother by the basement stairs, “make another wish!”  
  
“Fine! I wish that—uh, what do I wish for guys? I can't wish for all the— _uhh..._ ” Jackie, Donna, and Pam were groping him, “the chicks in America not to wanna fuck me 'cause then I'd never get any.”  
  
“That's exactly what you gotta do!” Hyde had braced the door with a stack of beer cases, but it was wobbling. “Face it, man. You screwed yourself.”  
  
Kelso shook his head violently. “I can't do it! I can't spend eternity like Fez.”  
  
“You'll still have Europe!” Eric shouted.  
  
At that exactly moment, the stack toppled over. Women flooded into the basement, their boobs flopping and jiggling. Hyde barely moved out of the way in time.  
  
“Michael! Michael!”  
  
_Aw, damn it._ Kelso shut his eyes. If Donna, Jackie, and Pam's behavior out on the stairs were any sign, these chicks would probably kill him before he came even once!  
  
“Fine! I wish for all the chicks in America to not wanna fuck me.”  
  
A collective groan of disgust filled the air. Chick-after-chick, boob-after-boob, filed out of the basement, and Kelso started to cry. The good feelings were all gone.  
  
“What the hell?” Donna said. She'd quit rubbing his ass.  
  
“What am I doing?” Jackie was no longer sucking on his lip.  
  
“Oh, hello.” Pam stopped nipping at his inner thigh and stood up. “I have absolutely no memory of how I got here. I need... several drinks. Jackie, dear, I'll see you later.”  
  
“Oh, my!” Mrs. Forman laughed and re-buttoned her blouse. “Well, I think I've had one-too-many this morning. I'm going straight to bed.” She went back upstairs.  
  
Kelso sagged into the couch. The dog was already lying there, and he put his head into Kelso's still tingling lap. Did the little fella know what Kelso had just lost? He patted the dog's head and shut his eyes again. He was exhausted and extremely disappointed. Now he had to move to Europe.  
  
At least he had had two wishes left to make it happen. 


	5. Or Whatever Country I Am From

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 5  
 **OR WHATEVER COUNTRY I AM FROM**

Kelso was drinking his seventh beer. He needed to get drunk, badly. The prospect of never getting laid again was weighing heavily on mind. He'd stopped crying, but the basement felt like the loneliest place in the world. Jackie and Donna were standing as far away from him as possible, Eric was glaring at him as if Kelso had actually slept with Mrs. Forman, and Hyde kept burning him. At least the dog curled up in his lap was being friendly.   
  
“I think you better wish yourself up an endless supply of ice,” Hyde said, “'cause your hand's gonna get real sore putting out for you.”   
  
Kelso stared at his right hand and flexed his fingers. “Man, it's gonna get all gnarled.”   
  
“You could always cheat on it with your left hand,” Jackie said.  
  
Hyde put a fist over his mouth and started to cough, but Kelso could've sworn he heard a chuckle in there somewhere.   
  
“Guys,” Jackie said, “I have to tell you something about this dog.”  
  
Kelso scratched the dog behind the ears. “He's sweet.”   
  
“He's weird. I—”  
  
“So you finally found a boyfriend who'll obey you, huh?” Hyde was talking to Jackie. This day was getting stranger and stranger. He made a scooping motion with his beer can. “And all you gotta do is pick up his shit.”   
  
Jackie glowered at him; Kelso knew that expression all too well. “Well, I never had to pick up  _your_ shit because you shit into my heart. No mess, no fuss, right?”  
  
Hyde said nothing. He didn't even shrug. He sipped at his beer as if Jackie hadn't spoken.  
  
“You know what, Steven? You don't even have a heart to shi—”  
  
A hard knock on the basement door interrupted Jackie's burn.   
  
“What now?” Eric stood up and opened the door. Two police officers were standing outside.   
  
“Hey, guys!” Kelso walked over to them. Officers Kennedy and Jacobs had their grumpy faces on. Their faces got even grumpier when Kelso belched. “Listen, I know I didn't show up for crossing-guard duty today, but I g—”  
  
Officer Kennedy grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. “Michael Kelso, you're under arrest for accepting a bribe from a suspect.”   
  
“Wha—?” Kelso glanced behind him while Officer Kennedy cuffed his wrists.   
  
“See?” Hyde stood up and pointed. “What did I tell you, man? This was all an elaborate scam to burn us—only it boomeranged back on Kelso.” He sat back down and opened another beer. “At least this day hasn't been a total waste.”   
  
“Uh, sir?” Officer Jacobs plucked the beer from Hyde's hand. “That's evidence.”  
  
Officer Kennedy shoved Kelso towards the door, but Kelso dug in his heels. “No! I wasn't scamming you. I didn't—”  
  
“I believe him,” Eric said. “No way Donna would ever do those things to Kelso without some kind of magic spell or... something.”   
  
“I still can't believe I did that!” Donna made a disgusted face. “I'm never touching beer again.”  
  
“Hey! You weren't complaining twenty minutes ago!” Kelso said.  
  
Officer Jacobs took Kelso's other arm. “Are you resisting arrest?” he said. “Please, say you are.”  
  
“No.” Kelso lowered his head and let Officer Kennedy drag him outside. 

***

Officers Kennedy and Jacobs were driving through Mt. Hump Park, the fastest route to a girl's pants and the police station. Kelso had ridden in a squad car many times, only usually he was in the front. They were gonna toss him in jail, but he hadn't done anything wrong—not this time! So he ate a magic bean? So what? Was that a crime?  
  
“Guys, listen, I'll make you a deal,” Kelso said. “I'll wish you whatever you want: chicks, money, candy—just name it!”   
  
“Isn't bribery what got you into this trouble?” Officer Jacobs said.   
  
Kelso grunted in exasperation. He had only two wishes left, and now he had to waste one.  
  
“Fine!” He was whining. “ _I wish the police would forget whatever crime they think I committed and let me go._ ”   
  
Officer Kennedy stomped on the brakes. “Kelso!” The car screeched to a stop. “What the hell are you doing back there?”  
  
“Uh... looking for my orange sash?”  
  
Officer Kennedy stepped outside and opened the back door. “Get the hell out of my car! You can walk back to the station.”  
  
“But I'm still handcuffed!”   
  
“Don't make me take out my gun.”   
  
Kelso wriggled across the seat and fell onto the pavement.   
  
“You and your damn pranks.” Officer Kennedy yanked him up and got back into the car.   
  
“Yeah, me and my pranks... and my wishes.” Kelso did a little freedom dance, which was really hard considering he was super-buzzed and his hands were cuffed behind his back.  
  
Shit. He was still cuffed, and the squad car was zooming away.  
  
“Hey, wait!” Kelso ran after it for a minute, but the car was already halfway out of the park. “Damn.”  
  
Mount Hump loomed ahead. Kelso moved onto the footpath and felt fresh tears building up in his eyes. He'd had so many good times on that mountain, but that was over. He'd never hump on it again thanks to those stupid wishes. Swallowing that magic bean had not been his best idea.   
  
“Michael!”  
  
That was Jackie's shrill voice. Kelso turned around. She and that dog we running toward him with Eric, Donna, and Hyde.   
  
“Kelso, you won't believe what happened after the cops arrested you!” Donna said when they reached him. “These three Trolls burst into the basement. They hacked into the beer cases with axes, glass and beer went flying everywhere—they almost killed us!”  
  
“Hah! I told y—ouch!” Kelso had strained his arm in an attempt to point at Hyde. The handcuffs.   
  
“I am freaking out, man! I am freaking out!” Eric hopped from one foot to the other, twitchy as Kelso had ever seen him.   
  
“Forman, would you chill?” Hyde grasped his shoulders and made him quit hopping. “There are no such things as Trolls. There has to be a rational explanation.”  
  
“Like we've gone collectively insane?” Eric said.  
  
“No, like the beer Kelso got bribed with was laced with something stronger. Leo was right, man. That stuff will mess with your mind.”  
  
“No, something really weird is going on. A wolf-man came after me last night,” Jackie said, “and tried to eat me and my mom.”   
  
Donna wrinkled her nose. “Jackie, your mom's bar pickups aren't weird. They're disgusting,”  
  
“No, you idiot. He put my mom in a roasting pan and would've shoved her in the oven if I hadn't kicked his ass. He wanted this dog just like those Trolls do. Only I don't think he's a dog. He keeps trying to talk to me, but I understand 'dog' as well as I do 'maid or 'nerd'.”  
  
So the dog was at the center of all the weird things that had been happening lately? Kelso knew a clue when he heard one, and he knew how to get more.  
  
“Check this out.” He knelt in front of the dog.  _“I wish I understood everything this dog says.”_   
  
Donna groaned, and Hyde might have given him the stink-eye, but who could tell behind those dark glasses? Kelso returned his attention to the dog.   
  
“You're all in trouble,” the dog said inside Kelso's mind, “worse than the time Eric told Mr. Red that he 'did it, too.'” His voice was unmistakable. The accent, the slight lisp...  
  
“Fez?” Kelso said  
  
Jackie patted Kelso's back. “Yes, Michael, that's what I named him. He's so much—”   
  
“Oh, my sweet Jackie,” the dog said, “shut up.”   
  
“He wants you to shut up, Jackie.”   
  
Jackie smacked the back of Kelso's skull.   
  
“Hey! I didn't say it. The dog did!”  
  
The dog—Fez, it had to be Fez—tilted his furry head. “If you guys want to stay alive, you have to do what I say.”  
  
“But we never do what you say.”   
  
“Ai, you have to this time, Kelso. We have to find a way back.”   
  
“Guys,” Kelso nodded at the dog, “guys, it's Fez! Can't you hear him?”   
  
“Oookay, I think I finally get it.” Eric was grinning. “I have malaria.”   
  
“Eric, you don't have malaria,” Donna said.  
  
“I was bitten by a lot of mosquitoes in Africa, Donna. I'm really in the basement, right? But I think I'm in the park because I'm delirious with fever, and all of you are just messing with me... right?”   
  
Kelso refocused on Fez. “How'd you become a dog, buddy?”   
  
“We have to find the magic mirror,” Fez said. “It will bring us back to my... back to the Fourth Kingdom. I can't do anything as a dog. Not here.”   
  
“You had trouble doing any chick as a human, too,” Kelso said.  
  
Fez bit his knee.  
  
“Ow!”   
  
“It is a mirror,” Fez continued, “but it won't look like one from this side. You have to look carefully, Kelso. Care-full-y.”  
  
Kelso's knee throbbed where Fez had bit it. “Carefully. Got it.” He walked forward, eyes searching the sky, and tripped on a fallen branch. “Damn it!” He tried to push himself up but couldn't. The handcuffs. Seven beers.  
  
Fez licked his cheek. “Oh, Kelso, even though we are about to die, you still make me laugh.”  
  
Kelso squirmed on the ground and tried to get some traction.  
  
“What do we do now, moron?” Hyde lifted him to his feet. “I can't believe I'm saying this, but has 'Fez' told you anything?”  
  
“We gotta find a magic mirror,” Kelso said.   
  
“Yes...” Fez dashed into a grove of trees.   
  
“Fez?” Kelso ran after him. “Wait up!”  
  
“Look for a piece of the park that doesn't fit,” Fez said. “I know this is where I came through—there! There it is. Look.“   
  
Kelso saw only branches and leaves.   
  
“Did you find it?” Donna said. She and the rest of them had caught up.   
  
“I didn't, but Fez did,” Kelso said.  
  
Jackie pushed in front of him. “Mirror? You mean that?” She pointed to a spot between two trees. “What good is it if I can't see my reflection?”  
  
“That's it! That's it!” Fez's tail wagged excitedly.  
  
“Yeah, there is something there,” Eric said. “Kind of blurry.”   
  
Kelso stepped closer to the trees. “Damn! Why can't I see it?”   
  
Donna put her hands on either side of his head and turned his face slightly to the left. “You see it now?”   
  
He concentrated, like he did when playing pinball at The Hub, and then he saw it: An oblong blur shimmering in the woods.   
  
“All right!” he said. “Let's go.” He marched forward, but Donna held him back.  
  
“Go where, dillhole? I'm not go—”  
  
Behind them, someone shouted. Three of the ugliest people Kelso had ever seen were charging in their direction. One of them was carrying an axe. These had to be the Trolls that smashed his apartment.   
  
“There they are!” one of the uggo Trolls said.   
  
“Follow me if you don't want to die!” Fez leapt into the mirror. The blur rippled then stilled.   
  
Somewhere nearby a wolf howled. Jackie screamed and sprang into the mirror.  
  
“Crap.” Hyde jumped in after her.   
  
Kelso peered through the trees. Since when did Point Place have wolves?   
  
“Get them!” The Trolls were getting closer.   
  
Kelso felt himself being shoved forward with Eric. Donna really was strong.   
  
“Get in there,” she said. “Now!”  
  
He fell into the mirror at the same time as Eric. It was like diving into a pool of Jell-O, viscous but without any flavor. Silence plugged his ears, and darkness clouded his eyes, but then he tumbled out and landed on the dusty floor of a room. It was full of random crap like Hyde's room in the basement, only the stuff here was rusted and battered and broken. Strands of chipped pearls, splintered barrels, metal doohickeys Kelso had no clue how to identify. And the smell of it all, like his grandma's house, old and musty.  
  
“ _Eww_ ...” Jackie said.  
  
“Where the hell are we, man?” Hyde said.   
  
Eric picked up a metal dish. “Looks kinda like your room.”  
  
“My room stinks less.” Hyde helped Kelso stand up again.   
  
“This way.” Fez led them into a wide stone hallway. Double doors at the end of it opened into some kind of cafeteria, but any hunger Kelso had swiftly abandoned him. The place smelled worse than Point Place High's gym locker room, all grease and B.O. A couple of guys in gray uniforms were slumped over the tables. Pink powder covered their faces, and it was the same stuff Kelso had found on his neighbors and Fenton.   
  
He pointed to the sleeping men. “What happened to them?”   
  
“Troll dust, but it is about to stop working.” Fez's doggy ears twitched. “I smell them, the Trolls.”   
  
“He can smell the Trolls,” Kelso said.  
  
Hyde cursed. Jackie shrieked—or was it Eric? Kelso couldn't tell. They all ducked behind one of the cafeteria's long tables just as the Trolls entered.   
  
“We'll have footwear parties where you'll have to change shoes six-times-an-hour!” one of the Trolls said. He was laughing.   
  
“And anyone found having dirty shoes will have their face sewn up!” another Troll said. She—it sounded like a chick—was laughing, too.   
  
The Trolls moved through the cafeteria quickly, and their laughter faded as they went up a stairwell.  
  
Fez was the first to walk out into the open. “Let's go. Follow me,” he said inside Kelso's mind. He was standing in front of a stone archway. It led to another hall.  
  
Kelso went to the arch. “He wants us to follow him.”   
  
“No, hold on a second. Where the hell are we?” Hyde said.  
  
“We're in the south of my kingdom.” Fez jumped onto a table. A giant map was nailed to the cafeteria wall. “ This is where I got attacked and became a dog. This is the Snow White Memorial Prison. The worst criminals of the Nine Kingdoms are sent here.”  
  
“We're in a prison?” Kelso tried to back out the way they'd originally came, but Hyde and Donna grabbed him.   
  
Hyde spoke through gritted teeth. “What is the dog saying, Kelso?”   
  
“Yeah,” Donna said. “Tell us exactly— _ exactly _ what he said.”  
  
Kelso did, as best as he could remember.   
  
“Snow White? As in  _ Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs _ ?” Donna said.   
  
Eric crossed his arms. “Okay, this is stupid.”   
  
“Only  _ now  _ it's stupid, Forman? The wishes, the Trolls, and the mirror we just came through weren't?”   
  
“Yeah, but Snow White?” Eric shook his head and blinked a few times. “Hyde—Snow White? I'm not drunk enough to believe in that. I have malaria.”   
  
“Eric, you  _ don't _ have malaria!” Donna said. “Because that would mean  _ I _ have malaria because I'm seeing every freakin' thing you are.”   
  
Fez lowered his head and looked as embarrassed as a dog could manage to look. “Kelso, It's true. I'm... I'm...”   
  
“Say it, Fez,” Kelso said. “Come on, boy.”   
  
“Snow White's grandson. She has been dead for a while, and I'm supposed to be crowned King of the Fourth Kingdom.”   
  
“Really?” Kelso's heart raced with excitement. “That is so awesome! Guys, you'll never believe what Fez just told me. He's Snow White's grandson!”   
  
“Does that make him royalty?” Jackie said.   
  
“Yeah!” Kelso sat on the table next to Fez. “He's supposed to be crowned king. We're friends with an almost-king!”  
  
“Oh, come on!” Eric said.  
  
“Wait,” Donna said, “this kind of makes sense. He never actually told us where he came from. Maybe it really is here. Fez was always kind of weird...”  
  
Everyone gathered in front of the map. It looked like something out of a high school art class, drawn in black ink. Fez's kingdom, the Fourth Kingdom, was in the middle. Jackie traced a finger along the border lines.   
  
“The Troll Kingdom,” she read. “Red Riding Hood Forest...”   
  
“What is this place?” Donna glanced back at Fez. “Is this really like 'Sleeping Beauty' and 'Cinderella' and all those fairy tales?”   
  
“Yes,” Fez said. “That is why I never told you where I am from. I didn't think you would believe me. The Golden Age was almost two-hundred years ago. Those sexy ladies you mentioned had their great moments in history, but things kind of suck here now. Happy Ever After did not last very long. Why do you think I became an exchange student?”   
  
“'Cause we got hotter chicks in Point Place?” Kelso said.  
  
Fez ignored him. “All the rulers of the other kingdoms are supposed to come to my coronation. They will have to travel far.”   
  
Donna hit Kelso's shoulder. “What did he say?”   
  
Kelso repeated everything, and Jackie let out an indignant huff at the part about Happy Ever After not lasting long.   
  
Suddenly, the cafeteria vibrated with sound. It was Hyde. He was laughing, the kind of laughter he unleashed only when someone had suffered a wicked burn—or when he was really, really baked. It rolled out of him like a train, car-after-car of laughter.   
  
He took off his sunglasses and wiped his eyes. “Man, even in the land of fairy tale crap, they don't believe in fairy tale crap. I always knew there was no such thing as Happily Ever Aft—ow!”  
  
Jackie had kicked Hyde in the shin.   
  
“Who turned you into a dog, Fez?” Kelso said.   
  
“The Evil Queen. She is the most dangerous and sexy woman alive.”   
  
“Sounds like Laurie.”   
  
“Ai, do not mention her name,” Fez said.   
  
“Aw, you still miss her, even after she left you.” Kelso would have scratched Fez behind the ears if not for the handcuffs. “I felt the same way, buddy.   
  
Fez whimpered, sounding very much like a dog. Then he jumped off the table. “We can't sit around all day. We have to find the Evil Queen's cell.” He ran down the hall through the stone archway.   
  
“Where's he going?” Donna said.  
  
Kelso headed for the hall. “To find the evil, sexy queen who turned him into a leg-lifter.”   
  
“'Queen' as in royalty,” Eric said, “or 'queen' as in...?”   
  
“No, she's a chick,” Kelso said. “I think he wants to find her so she can change him back.”  
  
Jackie tapped Donna's arm. “Donna, let's go home. I don't care if this is a dream or not—I'm not staying in a filthy prison with Trolls and smelly rooms and  _ Hyde! _ ”   
  
“Yeah, it's been a real treat for me, too,” Hyde said. “I'm having the longest trip of my life, and you're the worst part of it.”   
  
“Oh, I think you mean the  _ best _ part. You're lucky I let you even look at me.”   
  
“Whatever.”   
  
“Jackie, we can't leave yet. We gotta help Fez!” Kelso said.   
  
“I don't care! I'm going home.” Jackie pulled on Donna's wrist. “Come on, Donna.”   
  
Donna freed herself from Jackie's fingers. “Jackie, wait. If this really is the land of fairy tales, then maybe I can learn something here for my class. I could totally write a kick-ass thesis paper, maybe get extra credit.”   
  
“Extra credit? Donna,” Eric said, “this is my delusion, and I order you to go back through that mirror.”   
  
“Excuse me? You couldn't order me around when I was your girlfriend, and you sure as hell can't order me now. I'm staying.”   
  
“Fine.” Eric sighed. “If Donna's staying, I'm staying, but when I wake up from this dream, I better not be lying in a pool of my own vomit.”   
  
“Better your own puke than somebody else's.” Hyde looked down the hall. “If that dog's really Fez, I don't want him sniffing my ass any more than he did when he was human, so... I guess we should get him back to what passes as normal.”  
  
“Steven, you can't be serious,” Jackie said.   
  
Hyde shrugged. “I got nothing better to do. And maybe that evil hot chick's evil in the sack, too.”   
  
“That's what I'm saying!” Kelso bumped Hyde's shoulder with his. “Oh, and I wanna help Fez and stuff.”  
  
The five of them—Kelso, Donna, Eric, Hyde, and a very reluctant Jackie—caught up with Fez halfway down the hall. Jackie looked pissed and miserable, but that's how she'd been looking the last few months.   
  
“Are there any princes here besides you?” she said to Fez.   
  
“Well, the kingdoms have all been ruled by women since the days of Happy Ever After,” Fez said, but only Kelso could hear him. “I am the first prince to be born in a long time—Oh! But there are the Troll King's sons. You've already met them. And the Naked Emperor.”   
  
Jackie tugged on Kelso's shirt. “Did he say anything, Michael?”   
  
“Oh, uh... yeah. Lots of princes here. Says he's sure you'll find one you'll like.”   
  
Jackie didn't smile, but she seemed less upset. That was good. Kelso wanted her to stick around. They weren't in America anymore, which meant she might actually do it with him. If things with the hot Evil Queen didn't go his way... at least he'd have a backup. 


	6. Maximum Security

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 6  
**MAXIMUM SECURITY**

The gang followed the dog—Eric had a really tough time thinking of him as Fez—through the Snow White Memorial Prison. The place stank worse than Kelso's gym socks, and all sorts of moans and rattles came from behind the prison doors. The cells made Hyde's room seem welcoming and homey by comparison. Hyde's door didn't have bars. Hyde's room did have Hyde, but he was Donny Osmond next to the freakish prisoners being held here.  
  
Torchlight cast shadows on the stone floor, and the unfamiliarity of it all set Eric's nerves jangling. Whatever buzz he'd had was gone, and that was making this so much worse. It had taken him three weeks to get used to Africa, but how could he ever get used to a place that belonged in a story book? At least Donna was letting him hold or, more accurately,  _ clench  _ her hand because he swore he was gonna piss himself.  
  
Kelso took the lead with the dog and seemed relatively at ease here, either because he was a cop or because he thought this was one big movie. Hyde picked up the rear, following just behind Jackie. He'd stuck close to her since they'd gone through the mirror, although he'd never admit it. His face was as unreadable as ever, especially behind his sunglasses.   
  
They passed by a small cell, and Eric peeked through the bars. He couldn't help himself. Whoever—whatever was inside had caught his gaze. It was a dwarf, like Dopey from  _ Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs _ , only this guy was not adorable. Someone had gouged out his eye with a knife or a dagger and cut a painful-looking scar down to his chin.  __   
  
“Let us out,” the Dwarf said. “Come on, just get his key and let us out.”   
  
Eric scanned the walls for a key, and Donna elbowed him.  
  
“Eric,” she whispered, “you're not supposed to help the criminals. They're in jail for a reason.”   
  
“Hey, what happened to this guy?” Kelso stood by a cell where a skeleton dangled from shackles.   
  
Hyde peered through the bars of the door. “What do you think, moron? He died.”   
  
Kelso snorted. “We'd never let that happen at the Point Place P.D.”   
  
A moment later, they hit the end of the prison block. No more cells, just a stone wall. Eric felt tremendous relief... until Donna yanked him to the left and into another hallway.  
  
A wooden sign swung on chains attached to the ceiling. It read: MAXIMUM SECURITY .  Eric didn't know whether to feel safer because these prisoners would be better guarded or more terrified because these prisoners  _ had  _ to be better guarded. More signs swung at them up ahead:  
  
  


ABSOLUTELY NO TALKING TO PRISONERS

and

WE MEAN IT

and

PLACE FOOD HERE   
  
  


Eric grabbed onto Donna's arm with his other hand and, for the first time, wished Red were here. Yup, he was definitely more terrified. He wouldn't have been able to move forward if Donna weren't pulling him along.   
  
At the end of the hallway was an open, empty cell. The dog and Kelso walked in there without hesitation. Donna started to follow.  
  
Eric held her back. “Where are you going?”   
  
“Inside.”   
  
“There? But there could be someone in there.”   
  
“Yeah, Fez and Kelso.” Donna wrenched free of his grasp and joined the others in the cell.  
  
Eric felt a tap on his shoulder. He whipped around with fists raised like a defensive boxer—or Mr. Furley from  _ Three's Company _ . But it was just Hyde. He'd stayed behind with Jackie.  
  
“Too chicken to go in there, huh?” Hyde said.  
  
“I don't see  _ you _ going in there,” Eric said.   
  
Hyde's face might have tilted slightly in Jackie's direction, but Eric was too freaked out to be sure of anything he was seeing.  
  
“Nothing in there could be worse than my boss,” Jackie said, and she strode into the cell with shoulders back and hair flowing behind her.   
  
Hyde stepped forward, too, but Eric moved in front of him and said, “You can't leave me here all alone, man!”   
  
“Then quit being such a wuss and get your ass in there.” Hyde shoved him aside and entered the cell.  
  
Eric took a deep breath and filled his mind with images of Luke Skywalker swinging over the chasm in the Death Star. Then he ran into the cell with his eyes closed. He bumped into something hard.  
  
“Forman's here,” Hyde said.   
  
The cell was cold and dank but smelled faintly like perfume. Eric couldn't place the scent, but he recognized it.   
  
“Look, there's a dog bowl here,” Donna said and pulled him to her side. “It belongs to the dog that has Fez's body! Isn't that—Eric? Are you okay? You look like you're gonna puke.”  
  
His breathing had become ragged. The air inside the cell seemed thicker, heavier than the air outside.   
  
“No, I'm fine.” His voice sounded like a creaky door, and he couldn't control it. “What did that woman to do you, Fez?”   
  
“Oh, no way. No way!” Kelso said. Dog-Fez had apparently answered him. “She poisoned his mom and screwed his dad until he died. And then she tried to kill Fez the same way!”   
  
“That is one evil bitch,” Hyde said. He touched dog-Fez for the first time, scratched his furry neck.   
  
“Oh, that's...” Eric's legs buckled, “Fez, I'm so sorry, man.” He steadied himself on Donna's shoulder.  
  
“Eric,” Donna said, “really, are you okay?”   
  
He didn't know. He felt weird being in there, dizzy or fainty or... twitchy? God, he was so sick of always being the scared little duck. Even Jackie had walked in here without a tremble.  
  
“Eric...” Donna sounded worried.   
  
“I'm fine. Cool. Awesome,” Eric said.  
  
“But—”  
  
“Donna, he said he's fine,” Jackie said. “I need to get some air... Donna!” She clamped her hand around Donna's wrist and dragged her outside the cell.  
  
Eric was about to follow when he heard a  _ thump! thump!  _ as if two bodies had hit the floor.   
  
“Donna?” Eric said, but he couldn't get out of the cell. Kelso and Fez were in his way.  
  
“Shit.” Hyde slipped out into the corridor.  
  
“Hyde, is Donna all right?” Eric shouted to him. “Is Jackie?”  
  
Hyde didn't answer, and the cell door swung closed before Eric could escape.   
  
“No!” Eric kicked the door and fell backwards on his ass.   
  
Someone was laughing. It wasn't Kelso. His face was pressed up against the viewing hole of the door.   
  
“Do you see Donna?” Eric said.  
  
“All I see is a pair of feet.”   
  
“Are they Donna's?”   
  
“No... I think they belong to one of the wardens. They aren't moving. He's gotta be sleeping—or dead.”  
  
Eric rattled the door. “Donna? Donna!”   
  
No use. The door wouldn't budge.  
  
“Oh! Looks like that guy is waking up,” Kelso said. “His foot moved. Don't worry, Eric. I'll get us out of here. I'm a cop. He's a cop. He'll understand.”  
  
Great. Eric had no idea what had happened to Donna, and he was stuck in prison with only a dog-Fez  __ and Kelso to help him escape.  
  
This was the worst day ever.


	7. A Harsh Sentence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 3:** “Night Fever” copyright Barry Gibb, Robin Gibb and The Estate of Maurice Gibb, under exclusive license to Warner Strategic Marketing Inc., a Warner Music Group Company. Manufactured  & Marketed by Warner Strategic Market.

CHAPTER 7  
 **A HARSH SENTENCE  
**

Hyde had spotted the Trolls the moment he left the cell—and gotten a good whiff of them, too. They'd knocked Jackie and Donna out with that pink Troll dust-crap, tossed them over their lumpy shoulders, and he trailed them through the prison's dark hallways until they made it into the open air.   
  
The whole thing was crazy, man. None of his alcohol or weed-induced hallucinations had ever lasted this long. Leo used to tell him about wild trips where donuts tried to seduce him and airplanes flew out of his phone, but none of them had ever included magic mirrors or Trolls. The worst part of it, though, was having to spend all this time paying attention to Jackie.   
  
The prison was surrounded by woods, and he hid himself among the trees while the Trolls lumbered toward a river. Jackie and Donna were bouncing limply against the Trolls' backs like conquered cavewomen. He didn't like seeing them that way—actually, it pissed him off. He didn't have a camera. No evidence to burn them with later.  
  
A couple of boats were moored to a dock.  _ Crap.  _ The Trolls had gone straight to it. Hyde snuck closer to the riverbank but stayed behind the trees as much possible. He didn't want to get into brawl with these guys. Unlike Kelso, they could probably take him.  
  
The Trolls hijacked a boat and hurled its owner—poor bastard—into the water. Then they chucked Jackie and Donna into the boat, grabbed some oars, and Hyde watched as they rowed down the river. A moment later, he heard something horribly familiar. The soul-destroying beats of disco floated over the water. He had no idea how, but the Bee Gees were squawking from the Trolls' boat.  
  
He tried to tune it out.  Forman would never forgive him if he let his girl become Troll food, so he ran for the riverbank and leapt into a boat. It wasn't tied up; all he had to do was shove off into the water.   
  
“ _ Then I get night fever, night fever. We know how to do it...” _   
  
Huh. The Trolls were singing along, and their croaky voices made the Bee Gees sound like Roger Daltry. Hyde shoved his oars into the water and cursed. This day was getting better and better. Now he had to listen to that garbage while he paddled after them. Having to save Jackie's ass was bad enough. She hadn't existed to him for months, and he liked it that way. As soon as this was over, he'd be sure to forget her—and her ass—all over again, whether they were stuck in this screwed up fantasy land or not. 

***

Jackie's head ached worse than it had after Michael tossed her onto a trampoline that one summer. Her face kept banging against something hard, something that smelled like the leather jacket she'd bought him once—except this one also stank like man-sweat and rotten meat. She tried to open her eyes, but her head hurt too much. Her stomach felt as if it were bent over a boulder and made breathing painful, but she got enough air up her nose to get a sniff of the worst B.O. she'd ever experienced. That odor couldn't possibly be coming from her. Even at her most glistening, she smelled like flowers.  
  
Jackie tried again to open her eyes and managed to pop open one. Someone was carrying her over his stinky, leather-jacketed shoulder. A Troll. She remembered now. She'd wanted to talk to Donna about Steven, had pulled her out of that awful prison cell to do it, and got a face-full of pink Toll dust.   
  
_Donna._  
  
Jackie forced open her other eye and searched for her, but all she saw was the dirt road under the Troll's feet. An upside-down sign was sticking out of the ground. No, _she_ was the one upside-down, hanging over the stinky Troll's back. Her hair had probably absorbed some of that stench, too. She pushed the thought from her mind and read the sign.  
  


YOU ARE NOW ENTERING THE THIRD KINGDOM  
  


That was the Troll Kingdom. She'd seen that on the map in the prison.  
  
The Troll carrying her trudged onto some kind of lawn, and the Trolls really needed to hire someone to mow the grass. It was tall. The blades reached her chin and tickled her skin. In fact, the whole place should have been bulldozed. The wharf by the river was rotted in places, so were the boats tied to the wharf. The whole place stank of dead animal.  
  
She hated it here. The Third Kingdom wasn't a fairy-tale land at all. It was a smelly, rotten ghetto. Steven would've felt right at home.   
  
Her kidnapper turned left onto a winding stone path. They were traveling up a high hill, and at the top of it was the most hideous castle ever—like a crumbling sandcastle covered in barnacles.   
  
And this castle, of course, was where the Troll was bringing her.  
  
A scream was building in her throat, but she swallowed it down. For once, she didn't want to call attention to herself. This was all stupid Fez's fault!If he hadn't been so horny and let himself get turned into a dog by some evil bitch, Jackie would be at the TV station right now, being ordered around by a different evil bitch.  
  
Jackie's face stopped bumping into the Troll's back. His pace was slowing, and he carried her under an archway that read, “Troll Citizens”.On either side were two other archways, the one on the left reading, “Foreign Citizens”—and the one on the right reading, “Slaves”.   
  
A bunch of men, not Trolls, in tattered uniforms met them at the archway and bowed low.  
  
“Welcome back, Your Majesties,” they said together.  
  
At last, Jackie understood. Her kidnapper was royalty; these were the help. But they'd said _Majesties._ That meant more than just the Troll who carried her. Maybe one of them was lugging Donna.  
  
Though her head pounded with nausea-inducing intensity, Jackie turned her face to the left as far as possible. She caught a glimpse of blonde hair—only a glimpse—before the dizziness of the effort threatened to make her vomit.  
  
Donna _was_ with her, and this gave Jackie some relief. Maybe the Trolls would eat Donna first. They'd get full on her lumberjack body and then, maybe, let Jackie go.  
  
Who was she kidding? Jackie was far too pretty to be eaten. They were probably going to stuff and mount her and keep her on display as a trophy. The thought of it made staying conscious much harder, or perhaps it was all the blood pooling in her brain. Either way, as they approached the castle's entrance, her mind slipped into darkness. 

***

“Hey, I'm one of you!” Kelso shouted as two wardens hoisted him over their heads. His hands had gone numb from being cuffed so long, so he couldn't even clutch at their ears. “I've got a badge and everyth—ow! That's my ass! That's assaulting a police officer.”  
  
“Kelso, would you shut up?” Eric said. He was being carried beside Kelso by two other wardens.   
  
“Fez, bite 'em!” Kelso said, but Fez had been muzzled and leashed with a rope.  
  
The wardens hauled them into some kind of office and dropped them in front of a desk. A man was standing behind it, balder and scarier-looking than Red, and he was holding a cane topped with a small pewter skull. Kelso glanced over at Eric. He was pale and goggle-eyed, just like when Red caught him doing something fun.  
  
“It's some kind of spell,” a warden said to the guy behind the desk. “Me and the lads have been laid out for over a day. We've searched every inch of the prison, but the Queen is gone, sir.”  
  
The guy behind the desk looked seriously pissed. His jaw was clenched, and his temple pulsed the same way Red's usually did. “I have been Governor of this prison for twelve years,” he said. “No prisoner has ever escaped before.”  
  
Fez stood by Kelso's feet. “Kelso, do not tell anyone that I'm a dog.”   
  
“Why not?” Kelso said.  
  
“Because the sexy Evil Queen wants my kingdom, and she's got a plan to get it. No one can know I'm... I'm...”   
  
“Able to lick your own d—”  
  
The Governor hit his desk with his cane. “Speak when spoken to!”   
  
Kelso hid behind Eric. “ _I wish I was back in Point Place, nailing a really hot chick,_ ” he whispered, “o _r even a semi-hot chick, the kind that looks better when you're drunk._ ”   
  
He didn't feel a magic tingle or transport to the safety of Wisconsin, but he did feel a major puke rising from his belly. He shouldered Eric out of the way and hacked until his stomach contracted. A withered black chunk shout out of his throat and skidded onto the Governor's desk.   
  
“Ai, no,” Fez said. “Kelso, did you swallow a dragon-dung bean? You idiot.”   
  
“Whoa, I ate a turd? They really need to come up with a better way to give people wishes here. Guess I'm all out.”   
  
The Governor stared down at the dried-out bean sizzling on his desk. “How did the Queen escape?”   
  
“I dunno,” Kelso said.   
  
The Governor pointed his skull-topped cane at Eric. “Then why were you found in her empty cell?   
  
“Believe me, sir, I didn't want to be,” Eric said.  
  
“Look, I think I can clear all this up.” Kelso put on his most authoritative cop voice. “I, too, am an officer of the law. Now my buddy Eric, here, can be a little reckless, but he's mostly a good kid. If you let us go, I'll make sure he doesn't get into any more trouble.”  
  
“If he's the reckless one,” the Governor's tone hadn't softened, “then why are you the one wearing handcuffs?”  
  
“Because I got arrested for accepting a bribe—but I didn't actually do it. Jeez!”  
  
“Good job, Kelso. Hey, listen,” Eric stepped closer to the Governor's desk, “he's an idiot, okay? We can all agree on that, but we came here from a place that's like, really far away... a galaxy far, far away. If it weren't for our doggy friend, who's actually supposed to be crowned king of your land, we wouldn't be in this situation and,” he gulped, “bothering you, sir.”   
  
“The Prince?” the Governor said.  
  
Fez covered his face with his paws.   
  
“Eric, you weren't supposed to tell him that,” Kelso whispered.   
  
“I can make you break rocks with your teeth for a hundred years.” The Governor tapped the skull-top cane against his own teeth.   
  
“Wait!” Eric said. “This really is the Prince, grandson of...” his voice grew weak, “Snow White. Yeah, I'm not convinced, either.”   
  
“This is the Queen's dog,” the Governor said. “She had been permitted to keep him in her cell for the last year. Don't insult my intelligence.”   
  
Kelso couldn't flail his cuffed hands, so he stamped his foot. “But he is Snow White's grandson. Right, Fez? Bark once if I'm telling the truth. There's a Tootsie Roll in it for you.”   
  
Fez was still cowering under his paws. “No, not even for candy.”   
  
“You gotta let me go, man! My girlfriend's out there— ” Eric practically threw himself over the desk. “She's got blonde hair. She's about this tall, and she's—”  
  
Kelso spoke close to Eric's ear. “Technically, she's not your girlf—”  
  
“Enough!” The Governor slammed his cane on the desk, and both Kelso and Eric flinched. Even the Captain of the Point Place P.D. had a cooler temper than this guy. “I'll have the truth out of you soon enough. Warden, remove his handcuffs, issue them both prison uniforms, and put them in...” He swept the dragon-dug bean onto the floor and picked up the sheet of paper it had been lying on. “Oh, yes. Put them in 103 with Acorn the Dwarf and Clayface the Goblin.”   
  
“'Clayface'?” Eric said. “I don't want to be put in a cell with anyone called 'Clayface'.”   
  
“'Acorn' doesn't sound too bad,” Kelso said.   
  
“What about the Queen's dog, sir?” said the warden holding Fez's rope leash.  
  
Kelso moved protectively in front of Fez, who was still cowering. “Why can't he stay with—”  
  
“Get the furnace going,” the Governor said. “I'll slip some poison into his dinner tonight, and we'll chuck him in the incinerator tomorrow.”   
  
Fez finally stood up. “Kelso, you have to do something! They're going to kill me.”  
  
Kelso tried to answer, but the wardens were shoving him and Eric out of the office.   
  
“This is a violation of my rights!” Eric said. “I want to see a lawyer—or my mommy!”  
  
“Fez,” Kelso shouted behind him, “just don't eat!”  
  
That wasn't much of a plan, but Kelso and Eric were a little busy right now, what with being herded down a prison corridor and all. When Kelso got back to his beat in Point Place, he'd be nicer to the perps...  
  
If he ever got back to Point Place.   
  
_Damn._ He'd forgotten about the mirror. They had to get back to it. Man, thinking was hard, and it wasn't even his job. Hyde was the brains of their group, but he'd gone after Jackie and Donna— _damn!_ That meant Kelso had to figure out what to do himself. He just hoped Fez could hold out that long.


	8. You Must Really Love Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 8  
**YOU MUST REALLY LOVE PAIN**   


The wardens shoved Eric and Kelso inside a cell and slammed the door behind them. The room was dim; the only light came from a single barred window, but Eric could see well enough. Two sets of bunk beds were against the wall. Their snoring cellmates were both curled up with their backs toward him, each occupying a mattress on a different bunk bed. One top, one bottom.   
  
Eric groaned inwardly.  _Fantastic._ Like being bunk-mates with Kelso wouldn't have been punishment enough?   
  
“Dude.” Kelso pointed to the the wall opposite the cell door.   
  
Hanging there, in a wooden frame, was a portrait of Fez. He had on a princely uniform, and words were painted across his chest like a motto: “Good day. I said 'Good day'!”   
  
Eric sighed. How could Fez have kept all this from them? But Eric laughed silently at his own question.  _Dumbass._ Of course Fez never told them. They wouldn't have believed it. Eric still wasn't sure he did. He'd been pinching himself since the wardens found them in the Queen's cell. Wherever Donna, Hyde, and Jackie were, he hoped they were having a better time than him.   
  
Eric went to the ladder of the unoccupied top bunk and started to climb. Maybe a nap would make things seem less hopeless.   
  
Kelso grasped his arm. “N'uh-uh. Why do you get to have the top one?”  
  
Eric didn't bother to argue. He twisted Kelso's nipple through the cloth of his prison uniform, which elicited a yelp.   
  
“ _Why is everyone attacking me today?_ ” Kelso said and retreated to the bottom bed of the other bunk.  
  
Eric had no smile for his little victory. He didn't want to sleep on either bed, but top was always better than bottom. That way, no bodily fluids could drip onto his face. He climbed the ladder and made sure not to put his head down on the mattress. A sour odor permeated it, like an old gym mat dipped in piss. He propped himself up on his elbows instead.   
  
The silver I.D. bracelet was still fastened to his wrist. In their haste to get Eric and Kelso to their cell, the wardens hadn't done full-body checks. They'd simply told them to get undressed and tossed prison uniforms at them... He hoped to God Donna was okay.   
  
“So, ” the voice came from the bunk below him, “what are you in for?”  
  
One of his cellmates was awake.   
  
Eric swallowed and tried to make his own voice sound as sinister as he could. “Robbery. Stole a whole bunch of, uh—”  
  
“Cars!” Kelso interjected.   
  
“Horses,” Eric said over him. “We stole a bunch of royal horses from Prince Fez's castle. Couple people got hurt. But that's the way it goes.” He winced at his own dumbassery. “And you?”  
  
“Aggravated assault. I'm very easily aggravated...” His cellmate's face popped over the side of Eric's bunk. It was the same, scarred face he'd seen before; the same Dwarf who'd asked Eric to let him out. “I'm Acorn. Got any metal on ya? Knives, forks, coat hangers?”   
  
Eric shook his head. “Sorry.”   
  
“If you get stabbed,” Acorn said, “save the knife for me, won't you?”   
  
“Of course.”   
  
Acorn dropped back to his own bunk, and Eric shut his eyes. This couldn't get any worse.  
  
“Do you like carving?” a deep voice said. His other cellmate was awake, too. It had to be Clayface, given that the other guy had already identified himself as Acorn.   
  
Eric looked at the bed across from him and said, “Well, not flesh or anything.”   
  
“See what I'm doing?” A green arm covered in warts flopped over the side of Kelso's bunk. His equally warty hand held a bar of white soap. Gouges had been cut into it.   
  
“Oh, you've got real talent,” Kelso said. Eric wasn't sure if he meant it or not.  
  
Clayface climbed down the ladder with heavy steps and leaned against the rungs casually. “My name's Clayface the Goblin.”  
  
“Kelso. What are you in for?”  
  
“Carving.”   
  
_It just got worse.  
  
_ Eric backed up in his bunk even though it was only Kelso Clayface seemed interested in.   
  
“Will you be my friend?” Clayface said.  
  
“Sure.” Kelso grinned as if he were talking to some guy at The Hub instead of a Goblin in a freakin' prison cell. “Oh, but  _just_ friends. Not that I think you're an uggo or anything, but I prefer the ladies. Eric'll be your friend, too. Right, Eric?”  
  
“Right.” Eric gave a little salute and might have wet himself in the process. He'd never wanted Kelso to shut up so badly in his life. 

***

Kelso's hands tingled and itched. Dunking them into a bucket of water should have been more fun, but it wasn't. His knees hurt, too, from kneeling so long. His first assignment was to wash the flagstone floors of a few prison hallways. All he had was a bucket of water, a scrub brush, and a bar of soap. The wardens could've at least given him a mop. The job would've gone much faster that way. This way, it would take him hours—and he wasn't good at doing  _anything_ for hours, not without a break.  
  
“Hey, Kelso,” a voice whispered. It sounded like Fez, but he didn't see Fez anywhere. “Over here, behind the Governor's door.”   
  
Kelso looked up and saw the door to the Governor's office. “How'd you know I was here?” he said.  
  
“I have some new talents as a dog.”  
  
Kelso chuckled. “Yeah, like licking your own—”  
  
“Please stop mentioning that.”   
  
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, buddy. I would kill to have that talent.”  
  
“Yes...” Fez said. “Anyway, I can smell things much better now, like you.”   
  
“Nice, right?”   
  
“I would not say that, no. What are you doing?”  
  
“Aw, they got me scrubbing floors. It sucks! Eric got a way cooler assignment. He gets to flip mattresses.”   
  
“Do you have any soap?” Fez said.  
  
“Yeah. Do I smell that bad?”   
  
“Just stay there. Don't go away”   
  
“Fez?” But Fez didn't answer, so Kelso put his ear to the door. He heard a light thud then a jingling. Fez had dropped a key and pushed it underneath the door.  
  
“This is the Governor's master key,” Fez said. “Press it into the soap. Hurry! The Governor will be back in a minute.”  
  
“Oh, I get you.” Kelso grabbed the key and pushed it into the soap bar. This was so cool. He'd always wanted to make a key from a soap mold. “So this is what being on the other side of the law is like.”  
  
“You always did stuff that was against the law,” Fez said.  
  
“Yeah, but never while I was in prison.” Kelso slipped the key back under the door.   
  
Suddenly, he heard footsteps down the hall. A warden was heading in his direction. Kelso flipped the soap so the key's impression was on the underside. Then he took the scrub brush.  
  
“ _Row, Row, row, your boat gently down the stream,_ ” he sang and scrubbed the floor vigorously. The warden stared at him briefly then exited through a door further up the hall.   
  
“ _Soapy, soapy, scrubby, scrubby. The floor is nice and clean,_ ” Fez sang. “How does the mold look?”   
  
Kelso picked up the bar of soap and studied the impression. “Perfect. Now I just gotta figure out what to do with it.”

***

Eric and Kelso were standing in the mess hall with the rest of the prison's inmates.  The place smelled overwhelmingly of grass—not the happy kind—and a little sulphurous, like boiled asparagus. It burned Eric's nostrils and brought tears to his eyes.  
  
“Guess we know where Hyde's mother ended up,” Kelso said. “Cooking for Snow White Memorial Prison.”   
  
The Governor banged his cane on a table. Apparently, it was time to recite the prison pledge. The inmates spoke in one voice, and Eric mouthed the words as best as he could, considering he didn't know them:  
  
_“We promise to serve Prince Fez, kind and brave Monarch of the Fourth Kingdom, and pledge to mend our naughty ways so that we may all eat candy and live happily ever after.”  
  
_ Eric sat down at a table with Kelso, their cellmates, and a bunch of other unfriendly-looking prisoners. Each of them had a bowl of thick, green soup and a mug of green liquid. Despite the less-than-palatable appearance of the food, Eric was hungry, He shoveled a spoonful of the soup into his mouth—definitely not his mother's cooking, but tolerable. He'd eaten some pretty rank stuff in Africa.   
  
Kelso, though, was examining his soup-coated spoon with disgust. “What is this stuff?”  
  
“Baked beanstalk,” Clayface said.  
  
“Baked beans?” Kelso's face brightened, and he slurped up some soup.   
  
“Bean _stalk,_ ” Acorn said.  
  
Kelso hawked the soup back into his bowl. “I can't eat that! It tastes like an old mattress.”  
  
“No, it doesn't,” said the inmate sitting next to him. “Old mattress has—”  
  
_“—a sweaty, meaty taste!_ ” Eric said with him. He'd learned that fact first-hand today during his work detail. “All right!” He held up a hand for a high-five, but the prisoner looked at him as if he were insane.   
  
“How many days is this on the menu?” Kelso said.   
  
“Three-times-a-day,” Clayface said.  
  
Kelso groaned and took a swig from his mug. Green liquid sprayed from his mouth into Eric's bowl.   
  
“Kelso!”   
  
“What? It's not like that soup's gonna taste any worse,” Kelso said. “Man, I really miss your mom right now.”   
  
Acorn nodded at Kelso's mug. “That's beanstalk juice. Takes a bit of getting used to.”  
  
Eric sipped from his own drink. It tasted like brussels sprouts had been mixed in a blender with an old shoe.  
  
“Eric.” Kelso elbowed him. “Ask.”   
  
“What? Why me? This is your plan.”  
  
Kelso slipped the bar of soap into Eric's pants pocket. “Because it's your turn.”   
  
“Fine.” Eric leaned in closer to Clayface and Acorn. “Listen,” he whispered, “let's say I wanted to talk to someone about getting something made—for instance, just hypothetically, a small piece of metal—who would I have to talk to? Who's the 'Big Kahuna' around here?”  
  
A burly guy next to Clayface stopped eating soup and sniffed. “If you want anything bought, sold, borrowed, or made around here, you have to see the Tooth Fairy.”  
  
Eric rubbed his eyes, though he really should've been cleaning his ears. “The who?”   
  
“The prison dentist.” Acorn smiled and showed off a mouth full of metal teeth.  
  
“And how would I get to see him?”  
  
“Oh, that's easy,” the burly guy whispered. He pulled back his fist and smashed Eric in the mouth.  
  
“Burn!” Kelso said. “Oh, sorry.”   
  
And then Eric blacked out.

***

Kelso had been waiting outside the Tooth Fairy's office for over an hour when Eric finally emerged. He wasn't smiling, but he flashed something silver at him.  
  
“Is that it?” Kelso said.  
  
Eric nodded.  
  
“Did you have to pay him?” Kelso said.   
  
Eric pulled up his sleeve.  
  
“All I see is your arm.”  
  
“I gab domas bralet,” Eric mumbled.  
  
“What?”   
  
“I gave him Donna's bracelet!” Eric said. His two front teeth sparkled in the dim light of the prison corridor.   
  
“Hey,” Kelso lifted Eric's lip, “are those new choppers? I thought I heard some screaming in there.”  
  
Eric shoved him away. “Yes, okay? That guy is the worst dentist I have ever been to. He offered me candy.”   
  
“Well, of course he did, Eric. He's Fez's dentist.”  
  
Eric shoved the key into Kelso's hand. “The next part's all yours, buddy.”   
  
“Why?”   
  
“'Cause it's your turn.”   
  
“Oh.” Kelso put the key into his pocket. “That shouldn't be too hard.”

***

The skin of Donna's belly stung as if a cat had scratched it a thousand times. She couldn't quite open her eyes, couldn't quite move, and the air was so thick with stench, it made breathing difficult. Did she have a hangover? Where was she?   
  
“They are awake,” a gruff voice said. Donna forced open her eyes and angled her head toward the sound.   
  
The three Trolls that had barged into Eric's basement were standing several feet away from her. The tallest one drank from a tin jug while the other two wore snarling smiles. They'd brought her to some kind of rotting castle, that was right, and the room she was in seemed like a Troll version of home-sweet-home. Animal skins hung on the stone walls like tapestries. Antlers and axes served as decoration on a balcony to the right of her. The room even had a fire burning in a fireplace and—damn, her belly really stung. She looked down.  
  
The words “Troll Toy” had been tattooed on her stomach. A crudely-inked snake slithered through the letters.   
  
This was bad.  
  
She tried to spring forward, but her wrists were restrained by metal cuffs. She was bound to a giant wooden chair, and her boots were missing.   
  
“Strip them,” the tallest Troll said. The three of them moved forward but stopped just short of her chair. They seemed confused.   
  
“Which one should we do first, Burly?” the shortest Troll said.   
  
“I say we do the witch who trapped us in the disappearing room,” the female Troll said. “We used up our ink on the larger one, so the witch should get the pleasure of First Interrogation.”   
  
_Jackie?_   
  
Donna peered to her left. Jackie was sitting in another wooden chair, just as restrained, just as shoeless. But where were Eric, Hyde, and Kelso?   
  
“Yes, Blabberwort,” Burly said. “The witch should give us some nice answers.”   
  
He moved behind Jackie's chair and tipped it backward. Her feet shot into the air.  
  
“You take the left one, Bluebell,” said Blabberwort. She pulled on the sheer stocking covering Jackie's right foot and cut it off with a pair of scissors. Jackie curled up her newly-exposed toes.  
  
“Wait!” Jackie said. “My feet are so tiny and boring. Donna's are big and—big!”   
  
The Three Trolls immediately brought their focus to Donna's feet.   
  
“Jackie!” But Donna's chair was already being tipped back, and the Trolls were ripping the socks from her feet. She was so going to kill Jackie if they survived this.   
  
“You're a captive of the merciless Trolls now.” Burly was speaking by her head. His breath stank worse than Eric's farts.  
  
“Merciless!” Blabberwort grabbed Donna's right foot.  
  
“Without mercy.” Bluebell took hold of her left foot.  
  
Blabberwort was examining Donna's toes. “Ah, you have the feet of a Troll. Nicey-nice.”   
  
“Who runs your kingdom?” Bluebell snarled at her.   
  
“My kingdom?” Donna had no idea what he was talking about.  
  
Blabberwort grasped Donna's big toe and twisted it. Donna cried out in pain. Her toe knuckle felt like it was about to pop out.   
  
“Who's in charge?” Blabberwort shouted..   
  
“The president!” Donna said.   
  
Blabberwort released her big toe and started twisting the pinky toe. “Fez was trying to rally an army from your kingdom to ours, wasn't he? Wasn't he?”  
  
“No—no!” Donna never knew she could feel such pain from such a tiny part of her body.   
  
A trickle of liquid fell on her cheek, and then Burly drooled a whole mouthful of his drink onto her face. It smelled like cabbage and rotten apples.   
  
“This could be a long torture session,” he said.   
  
Donna could deal with pain, but being spat on? If she wouldn't take that from a human male, she sure as hell wouldn't take it from a Troll.   
  
“Get bent!”  
  
“Donna, just tell them whatever they want to know,” Jackie said.   
  
“No!” Burly shouted. “Torture first; then you talk. It's better that way. Rush a torture, ruin a torture.”  
  
Blabberwort laughed, and Bluebell sniffed at Donna's toes, but a creaky sound from the other end of the room made them both drop her feet.   
  
“Dad's here,” Burly whispered.   
  
Donna didn't see anything behind the Trolls but an open door.  
  
“Dad?” Bluebell said. He was crouching low with a hand on his dagger. “Why don't you take off the shoes?”   
  
“With these shoes, I am all-powerful,” a deep, booming voice said from nowhere. “I can rule the world.”   
  
A sound like stone grinding on stone filled the room. A large slab of the far wall lifted into the ceiling. It revealed a closet filled with so many shoes it rivaled Jackie's in the Burkhart mansion. All sorts of shoes lined the shelves. Leather, metal, floral, and many made from materials Donna didn't recognize.  
  
“Come on, Dad. Just slip 'em off,” Burly said.  
  
“I can handle them,” the deep voice said, and a swirl of rainbow light spiraled from the floor. It dissipated in a shower of golden sparks, and standing there was another Troll. He wobbled on his legs as if he were drunk, but the other three Trolls rushed to his side and steadied him.   
  
“But you never used to put them on first thing in the morning,” Blabberwort said. “Imagine the Troll King under the influence—”  
  
”Enough!” The newly-arrived Troll bent down and picked up the pair of glittering, golden shoes he'd been wearing. Then he placed them on a pedestal in the closet.   
  
So he was the Troll King. Donna tried to wrench her wrists free of the metal bonds, but they were far too tight. Despite the danger she was in, she couldn't help but be a little intrigued. The Troll King, an actual king... of Trolls!   
  
“Where've you been?” the Troll King shouted at his children. He was easily the ugliest of the bunch. Greasy black hair and more teeth than should be allowed in a mouth. At least his clothes were kind of punk. Leather and ripped. “You're a day late!”  
  
Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell all stammered and pointed at one another, but the Troll King stepped through them to Donna and Jackie.  
  
“Who's this? You were supposed to bring back the dog,” he said.   
  
_The dog._ He meant Fez, which meant Eric and the others could still be safe. Eric could be coming after her.  
  
“Forget the dog, Dad.” Burly shoved Donna's chair back into its upright position. “We've discovered another kingdom.”   
  
Blabberwort pushed Jackie's chair up, too. “The mythical Tenth Kingdom.”   
  
“Talked about only in myth,” Bluebell said.  
  
“Don't talk rubbish.” The Troll King was staring at Donna. He would've made such a great interview, like Ted Nugent, if only he weren't going to kill her. “There is no Tenth Kingdom.”  
  
“Oh, but there is. This witch put us in a box of matches.” Bluebell pointed at Jackie.  
  
“You were captured?” The Troll King smiled contemptuously. “By this girl?”   
  
“She's a witch!” Bluebell said, and Blabberwort nodded. Donna looked over at Jackie. What had she done to the Trolls?   
  
The Troll King's face slackened, as if he'd heard this all before. “How many of their soldiers did you kill before you were captured?”   
  
“None,” Bluebell said.  
  
“None  _survived,_ ” Blabberwort quickly covered. These Trolls were as dumb as Kelso.   
  
“Who wants to be whipped first?” the Troll King shouted. Donna half-expected to hear the word  _dumbass_ come out of his mouth next.   
  
“Dad, it's true!” Burly reached behind Donna's chair and grabbed a leather knapsack. “Look at this.”   
  
He yanked the knapsack off a boombox and pressed a button. The Bee Gees' “Night Fever” blasted out of the speakers. The Troll King jumped back in fright, and Donna couldn't blame him.  _Disco_ . Blech. The other Trolls, however, bounced with the beat.  
  
Bluebell leaned in close to his father. “They are called the Brothers Gibb.”   
  
“And the song,” Blabberwort said, “it concerns a deadly fever that only strikes on Saturdays.” She did a John Travolta disco-move with her fingers, and Donna suppressed every urge to ask where she'd picked  that up from.  
  
The Troll King gazed at the wall as if he were looking beyond the castle. “There is more to this than the Queen is telling me...”   
  
_The Queen?_ The Trolls were working for the Queen? The bitch who'd killed Fez's parents, who'd turned him into a dog? Donna spared another glance at Jackie, who shook her head and shrugged. What the hell had Fez gotten them all into?   
  
The Troll King left his discoing children and moved back in front of Jackie and Donna. “You will dance for me,” he said. “And when you finish dancing, you'll tell me how to invade your kingdom.”  
  
This was very bad. “We kinda suck at dancing,” Donna said.   
  
“Speak for yourself, goon! I'm a great danc—”  
  
“Jackie, shut up.”  
  
The Troll King walked to the shoe closet and picked up a pair of clunky iron slippers. They didn't look comfortable.   
  
“You'll dance when you wear these,” he said.  
  
“Those are  _so_ not dancing shoes,” Jackie said. “I prefer ballet slippers or something, you know,  _not_ _metal_ .”  
  
The Troll King ignored her and went to the fireplace. He dropped the shoes onto an iron grill over the flames.   
  
“Wake me when they turn red!” The Troll King said, and he left without another word.   
  
“Oh, my God,” Jackie said.   
  
The Troll King's children sat in front of the fireplace as if it were a television set, and Donna shut her eyes. She was no longer intrigued. Boring was good. Boring was not having your feet burned by red-hot slippers.   
  
The Trolls' eager  _oohing_ made Donna open her eyes. Most of her life was spent wishing she could get out of Point Place; now all she wanted to do was get back to it. She would've laughed at the irony... if the sight of those iron shoes hadn't been so frightening. 

***

Fez smelled Kelso in front of the Governor's door before he heard him.   
  
“Fez, I've got the key,” Kelso whispered.  
  
“Yes! The Governor's in the kitchen making me another poison dinner. I am so hungry.” Fez reached a paw through the space under the door. “Hurry. Get me out of here.”  
  
The lock jiggled and shook.   
  
“There's something wrong with the key,” Kelso said. “It's not turning. It's gotta be—”  
  
“You must really love pain.” That was the Governor's voice—and his scent. Other scents were mixed in with his.   
  
“Oh, no, no, no. It's not what it looks like,” Kelso said. “I was just walking down the hall, and I tripped on a loose brick, and I found myself right here in front of your door. And I found this key! Did you lose one?”   
  
Fez shut his eyes. Kelso was still so bad at doors. Maybe worse than Eric.   
  
“Take him downstairs, and give him fifty beanstalk lashes,” the Governor said. “Right now!   
  
Fez heard a scuffle of footsteps and Kelso's fading protestations. Wardens were dragging him off, but the Governor's scent grew stronger. Fez ran away from the door just as the Governor opened it.  
  
“Here, doggy,” the Governor said. He put a bowl of chicken down in front of him. “This should give you a nice, long sleep.”   
  
Despite the pain in his starving stomach, Fez had no intention of eating the foul-smelling food. Had it been poisoned candy, he might have been tempted. But poisoned chicken? No, thank you.   
  
The  _ whip-crack! _ of a beanstalk lash made Fez forget his hunger. It echoed through the castle halls, and Kelso's pained scream followed.   
  
“Ai, no,” __ Fez said, but the words came out as a doggy whimper. This was all his fault. Another  _ whip-crack!  _ brought a fainter scream from Kelso. Bad at doors, but good at pain. Forty-eight lashes to go. Fez curled up into a ball. All his needs had let to this, to Kelso being tortured, to his other friends being in so much trouble—and his kingdom! He wasn't a prince. He wasn't even a man. He was just a dog, a helpless little dog. 


	9. Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 9  
 **TEMPTATION**

The iron shoes were orange and hissing with heat. Blabberwort pulled them from the fire with a pair of long tongs, and Jackie shut her eyes. She prayed the Troll went to Donna first.   
  
“Frying tonight,” Blabberwort said. “Frying tonight.”   
  
“Get away from me!” Donna shouted.   
  
Jackie opened her eyes. The Troll had gone to Donna first, but Jackie didn't feel any relief. “Don't touch her!” she heard herself say.   
  
_Damn._   
  
Blabberwort paused in her steps. The shoes dangled inches from Donna's knees.   
  
Jackie's head told her mouth to shut it, but her mouth was too much like the rest of her; it mostly took orders from her heart. “Her feet may be huge,” she said, “but beauty comes in all shapes and sizes—like you, Blabberwort.”   
  
Blabberwort turned on her. “You think I'm beautiful?” The shoes now hovered precariously close to Jackie's legs, and she could feel their heat through her trousers.  _Damn!_   
  
“Of course!” Jackie flashed her most charming smile. “What Troll wouldn't want to date such a fashion-forward model of, um, Trollness who clearly takes pride in her... textured skin?”   
  
“Hey, sis,” Burly said, “you're beautiful!”   
  
Burly and Bluebell laughed uproariously. They poked Blabberwort's cheek, tugged on her leather bustier. Jackie expected to hear  _Burn!_ at any moment.  
  
Blabberwort jabbed the red-hot shoes in her brothers' faces, and they backed off. “I have never been so insulted in my life!” She lowered the shoes toward Jackie's feet. “For that, you get to dance first.”   
  
“Jackie!” Donna said.  
  
Jackie pressed her knees to her chest. “Keep away from me, you uggo!”   
  
“Flattery won't help you now,” Burly said. He grabbed her ankles; her feet were being pulled towards the shoes...   
  
Something slammed onto the floor behind the Trolls. A package, shoddily wrapped in newspaper, had been thrown from the balcony. A present? Despite her perilous situation, Jackie wondered what was inside.   
  
The red-hot shoes clattered to the ground. Blabberwort had loosened her grip on the tongs and rushed to the package with her brothers. A card was tied to it with some twine.   
  
“Listen to this,” Burly said. He tore the card from the package. “A present for the strongest, most badass Troll.”   
  
_Badass?_   
  
Jackie's breath caught in her throat, but she wouldn't allow herself the luxury of hope right now. The Trolls were all distracted, so she looked over at Donna. She was trying to pull free of the metal cuffs attached to the chair. Jackie started to do the same.  
  
“Oh, you know what it smells like?” Burly said.   
  
The three Trolls bent down and sniffed, as if the package contained one of Mrs. Forman's pies.   
  
“Leather!” they said as one.  
  
“Shoes!” Bluebell went to pick up the package, but Burly tossed the smallest Troll backwards.  
  
“Wait,” Blabberwort said. “It could be boots.”   
  
Burly put his foot next to the package. “And my size by the look of things.” He knelt down to rip off the newspaper wrapping.   
  
Blabberwort smashed the fire tongs down on his skull. With a weak grunt, Burly crumpled to the ground. He didn't move again.  
  
“They're mine!” Bluebell lunged for the package, but Blabberwort got to it at the same time. “It's a present for me, and you know it.”  
  
“No, they're mine!” Blabberwort shouted.  
  
“Mine!”   
  
Jackie and Donna kept tugging at their bonds. Blabberwort and Bluebell were slapping each other, but then Blabberwort shoved Bluebell back.   
  
“Look,” she said, “let's spin a coin to decide who gets them.”   
  
The Trolls turned away from each other, and Bluebell didn't quite search in his pocket, and Blabberwort didn't quite search in her leather pouch. They jerked their arms around, and Troll fists collided with Troll faces. Blabberwort and Bluebell dropped to the floor with a thump, unconscious.   
  
_Idiots._   
  
“Oh, thank God,” Donna said. “They're dumber than Kelso.”  
  
Jackie's heart was thundering in her ears. The stupid antics of the Trolls had distracted her from it until now. “Donna, can you get loose?” she said.   
  
“No, but we'd better. The Troll King's going to...” Donna went silent.   
  
Something—no, some _one_ had landed on the balcony. A tattered curtain kept Jackie from seeing who it was.   
  
“If you get any closer, I'll bite you!” she said.  
  
“Wouldn't be the first time.”   
  
That voice, she knew it far too well.  
  
“Hyde?” Donna said. “I can't believe you found us!”   
  
“All chained up huh?” Steven stepped in front of them and clutched his belt buckle. “If we were anywhere else, I could totally get into this.” He went to Donna's chair first,  _Donna's_ , and flipped a latch underneath the arm. The metal cuffs clicked, but he had to pry them open.   
  
“Thank you, Hyde.” Donna jumped to her feet and flexed her fingers a few times. “Are Eric and—”   
  
“Later.” Steven walked over to Jackie. She hadn't felt this happy to see him since...  
  
Too long.   
  
His fingertips brushed her wrists as he freed her from the cuffs. The skin all up her arm prickled, and she hated that his brief, indifferent touch could create such a physical response in her. She stood and rubbed her wrists, but the feeling had already seeped inside.   
  
“Jackie, get your shoes on!” Donna slid Jackie's four-inch heels across the floor. “We have to get out of here. The Troll King's going to show up any second.”   
  
“Troll King?” Steven said. “Man, this place is loonier than my cousin Pete, and he's in the looney bin.” He moved onto the balcony. “We're gonna have to climb back down.”   
  
Jackie had slipped on her heels, but she barely heard what Steven said. The Troll King's golden shoes were glittering in the shoe closet, and she went to them.   
  
“Those tacky shoes,” she said. “They made him invisible.”   
  
“Hey, we don't have time for you to screw around,” Donna said from the balcony.  
  
“But they made him  _invisible._ ” Jackie started to feel giddy. She picked up the  Trolls' leather knapsack, the one that had contained the boombox.    
  
“Jackie, quit touching weird things and haul ass,” Steven said.  
  
Jackie glimpsed at the balcony briefly. “You never complained when I touched  _you_ , and you're the weirdest thing of all.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. Nice burn. Now move it.”  
  
Jackie ignored him and grabbed shoes.  
  
“Someone's coming down the hall.” Donna rushed back into the room and yanked Jackie onto the balcony, all before Jackie could slip on the shoes.  
  
Steven held out a thick vine—was that how he'd gotten up here?—and gestured for Jackie to take it.   
  
She scoffed. “I don't think so.”  
  
Heavy, clomping footfalls changed her mind. She put the Troll King's shoes into the knapsack. Then she snatched the vine from Steven's hands and slid down it like a fireman's poll. Within moments, Donna landed next to her. Steven hit the ground barely ten seconds later.  
  
They were outside the castle. Two Troll guards tore out of the portcullis and charged in their direction. Jackie wanted to wear those shoes so badly, but Steven gave her a little push toward the crumbling road.   
  
“Where are we going?” Jackie said. The three of them were hurtling down the hill.   
  
Steven jumped over a chunk of rock. “Where do you think? Back to prison.”  
  
She would have stopped right there, but a glance backward convinced her otherwise. “I don't want to go to that prison.”  
  
“Tough shit. That's where the mirror is, and Forman's probably stuck in a jail cell with Kelso and Fez.”   
  
“Oh, my God,” Donna said. “Hyde, you left them?”   
  
“What did you want him to do, Donna? Let our—” Jackie clamped her mouth shut before she said anything more. Considering his attitude, one question was all the defending he deserved.   
  
They finally reached the overgrown grass, but the road from there led in two directions. One path followed the river, was well-lit by sun and clear of debris. The other road went through a forest. Jackie didn't like nature, especially when it was ugly—and this forest was ugly. Some of its trees were like the ones in Mount Hump Park. Regular, boring. But others were disgusting things that rose from the ground like giant, branching asparagus spears. The tops of them disappeared into black, thundering clouds.  
  
Donna, of course, stepped toward the forest. “I totally know what those are,” she said. “Those are bean stocks.”  
  
“Those aren't stocks,” Jackie said. “Those are plants. You can't buy or sell those.”   
  
“Not 'stocks'.  _Stalks._ Like 'Jack and the Beanstalk'? And you can buy plants at the Piggly Wiggly.”  
  
“Whatever.” Jackie started for the nice, well-lit path. “Let's keep going.”   
  
Donna held her back. “We better go this way.” She pointed to the forest. “The stories I've read all say Trolls have a good sense of smell. Going through there might throw them off our trail.”   
  
“N'uh-uh,” Jackie said. “No one who stinks as badly as those Trolls can possibly have a good sense of smell. They'd be vomiting all over themselves.”  
  
“Hyde,” Donna put her hand on Steven's shoulder, and he didn't seem to mind, “are you with me on this?”   
  
“Sure. Can't be worse than the bathroom at Fatso Burger.”   
  
Jackie crossed her arms. “I'm not going in there.”   
  
“Enjoy being Troll food,” he said and headed for the forest.  
  
“See ya.” Donna walked with him.  
  
Jackie stood there for a moment, staring at their shrinking backs. She waited for them to turn around, but they didn't. They kept on going. How could he— _they_ just leave her like that, without even a peek behind them? She groaned and gave in. Her hair was already rife with Troll-sweat. How much worse could it get? 

***

Forests were such easy places to get lost, but Steven had led them through this one pretty well so far. That was one thing Jackie had always admired about him, that he could be put in any situation and find his way through it. Unless, of course, the situation involved questions about marriage or the future. Then he was completely lost.  
  
Jackie's breath left her in white puffs. The forest was cold and thick with mist; lightning crackled at the top of the beanstalks while deep moans thundered from the clouds. Were there actual Giants living in those clouds? She ached to put on the Troll King's shoes. They were just in the knapsack...  
  
“Hey, check it out.” Donna stopped them at a statue. It was nearly as tall as one of the beanstalks and depicted a man carrying an axe. She read the inscription on the base. “Brave Jack.”  
  
“Jack and the Beanstalk?” Steven sounded annoyed.   
  
“You know what I think?” Donna said. “I think the beanstalks are, like, weeds or pollution. I mean, look at this place.”  
  
Who cared? Jackie slipped behind the statue and took off the knapsack. No one seemed to notice.  
  
“Makes sense why the Trolls are so pissed off,” Steven said. “They got shit for a kingdom, and it smells like Edna's green bean surprise.”   
  
Jackie, finally, put on the shoes and watched in awe as her body faded then vanished completely. The giddiness she'd felt merely looking at the shoes increased ten-fold.   
  
“Jackie, can you believe thi—Jackie?” Donna scrunched her face in confusion.   
  
Jackie almost squealed in delight but clapped an invisible hand over her invisible mouth.  
  
“Where'd she go?” Donna walked completely around the statue. “She was right here.”  
  
“She's just getting back at us for pretending to ditch her,” Steven said.   
  
_Pretending?_ Jackie scowled at him though he couldn't see it. For pretending, it had seemed pretty real when they left her standing alone on that forked path. And even if they hadn't intended to abandon her, who was Steven trying to fool? He'd ditched her months ago. Except for the occasional burn, he seemed to enjoy pretending she was invisible.  
  
But now she really was invisible, and it made her feel like she was in the circle. She wanted to laugh in Steven's face. He didn't miss her when she was around, but with these shoes...  
  
She was going to learn exactly how he felt when she  _wasn't_ around.

***

Hyde had wanted Jackie to disappear for a long time, but not like this. He'd just wanted her not to show up in the basement or his store or The Hub—or anywhere else he might ever go. He knew that wasn't going to happen, so he'd tuned her out until her presence no longer pissed him off. If he didn't listen, he couldn't hear the bullshit in her voice. If he didn't look, he couldn't see the bullshit in her eyes, and—she'd had to put on those damn shoes. They weren't in safe territory, man. The moans booming down from the beanstalks sounded hungry.  
  
Unlike Donna, Hyde suppressed every impulse to shout Jackie's name. He searched the forest for hints of her instead: a swaying branch, the sound of crunching leaves. But she was being real quiet, probably watching him, waiting to see what he'd do.   
  
Donna's voice grew more frantic as the Jackie-less seconds wore on. If one of those Giants heard her...   
  
“Hey, Donna, pipe down,” he said. “Don't wake the hungry hippos.”  
  
She must have gotten his meaning because she lowered the volume.  
  
Hyde leaned back against a beanstalk and laced his fingers behind his head. He wasn't going to play this game. Actually, the break was kind of nice. Chasing those Trolls had tired him out more than he realized. His eyes started to drift closed, but a flicker of golden light opened them again. The flicker exploded silently into rainbow fireworks, and when they faded away Jackie was standing in front of him.   
  
She pouted at the sight of her own hand. “Damn.”   
  
“Nice trick,” Hyde said. “Too bad it wasn't permanent.”   
  
Donna had gone up ahead. She was still calling Jackie's name, but another minute of worry wouldn't kill her. He grasped Jackie's wrist. They needed to clear things up, establish some ground rules.   
  
“You can't have them!” she shouted.   
  
He twisted sideways, avoiding the expected kick to his shin. “What the hell are you talking about?”   
  
“The shoes. They're mine.”   
  
Her free hand clutched at the fingers Hyde kept around her wrist, but he bent down and tossed her over his shoulder. The golden shoes were crammed over her heels.   
  
“You mean these?” He wrenched them off and placed her back on the ground. Jackie's eyes were dilated, as if she'd just smoked a fat joint. What kind of freakin' magic were those shoes laced with? He stuffed them inside his jacket so she couldn't see them. “We gotta get rid of these. It's only gonna get harder later.” He spoke from experience. Three years, man. Should've done it in one.  
  
Jackie blinked, and her pupils were back to their normal size. But nothing was that easy.  
  
“You're right.” She sounded surprised and a little repulsed. “I don't want them. They're tacky, and they made me feel weird.”  
  
“Donna,” Hyde called through the forest, “I found her!”  
  
“It felt great being invisible, though,” Jackie said as they met up with Donna.   
  
“Whatever.”   
  
“Jackie!” Donna shook her by the shoulders. “Don't you ever pull a stunt like that again!”   
  
“I know, I know. I'm sorry.”   
  
A thunderclap shot through through the air, followed by what sounded like a drunken groan. Hyde signaled for Jackie and Donna to move it. He quickened their pace through the forest until they were full-out running. Signs were jammed against the base of the stalks, and most of them read:  _ C _ _ondemned. Mold. Do not climb._   
  
“Hyde, wait,” Donna said after they'd gone some distance. “I just saw something I have to check out.”   
  
He slowed but didn't stop. “Are you kidding me?”  
  
“One minute.”   
  
“Donna—”  
  
But she'd disappeared around a thick beanstalk. Hyde shook his head. Chicks. They were all nuts.  
  
“Can I ask you something?” Jackie said.   
  
He didn't look at her. “You just did.”   
  
“Do you still think I'm hot?”  
  
His eyes reflexively flicked to her body. She was resting her hip against a beanstalk, and her violet jacket lay in a heap with the Trolls' knapsack. His gaze skimmed over the shirt that outlined her so well and moved onto her face. She was throwing him flirty glances.   
  
“I'd do it with you right here...” Her voice was low and husky. “I still want you.”   
  
She pushed herself off the beanstalk and pressed her body against him. Her hands slid underneath his jacket; her fingertips inched up his sides and left traces of heat. He refused to feel anything while her hands slipped higher.  
  
“You don't want me,” he said. “You want the shoes. You'd do anything—or anyone—to get 'em back.”  
  
Jackie ripped her hands from his chest and stared at them. “Oh, my God. What the hell is wrong with me?”   
  
Hyde shrugged. He'd had enough trouble figuring that out back in Forman's basement. Here? He wasn't even gonna try.  
  
She put her jacket back on, but Hyde grabbed the knapsack and shoved the shoes into it.   
  
“Guys,” Donna came rushing toward them, “I think we better go.  Now .”  
  
He heard the dogs' barks first. Then he saw the lantern light winking in and out among the trees. The Trolls had found them.  
  
“Run!” Donna said.  
  
Hyde didn't need the advice. He was already ahead of her, and he kept looking back to make sure both she and Jackie were keeping up. They had speed in their favor, but it wouldn't last. If they couldn't figure something out soon—if the Trolls caught them—they were all dead. 


	10. Pursuit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 10  
**PURSUIT**   


Hyde had never climbed a beanstalk in his life—hell, he hadn't climbed a tree since he was fifteen—but Donna and Jackie couldn't run anymore, and his own legs were hurting. They needed a break. Fortunately, the sides of the beanstalk were knobby and supplied plenty of hand and footholds, and Donna thought it was a cool idea. The only obstacle they had in getting up there was Jackie.   
  
They clambered up about thirty feet, with Jackie complaining the whole time. She refused to take her damn heels off, so he and Donna had to push, haul, and drag her ass up. There was one good thing about her complaints. though: none of them were about the Troll King's shoes. Hyde was still carrying them in the knapsack, but whatever hold they had on her seemed to have weakened.  
  
A peal of thunder ripped through the dark sky, but he kept his focus below. A light flickered by a beanstalk farther away— _bingo_. The Trolls were lurking in the woods. The first light was joined by several others, and a racket of barks and shouts ricocheted through the trees.   
  
“This way! The dogs are on the scent! They're very close now.”   
  
The Troll King emerged from a cluster of bushes with a pack of Dobermans. The dogs were leading a troop of armored Trolls in the hunt. Hyde's body tensed. For once, the people out to get him weren't making a secret of it. He inhaled a deep, covert breath—the dogs were thirty feet below him—and that was all it took to regain his Zen. He looked over at Donna. She was watching the Trolls intently, and her knuckles were white from clutching the knobby sides of the beanstalk. Jackie had buried her face in Donna's hair.   
  
“They can smell 'em!” the Troll King said. “Don't let them escape again.”   
  
“No, Dad.” His three dumbass kids were picking up the rear.  
  
Seconds later, the dogs brought the Trolls straight to the beanstalk—and then straight past it. Hyde smirked. The dogs were as dumb as the Trolls. The barking faded as they went deeper into the forest, but the Troll King's kids lagged behind.   
  
“Blabberwort, you got any magic mushrooms?” Burly said.   
  
Hyde angled his head so he could get a better view. This had just gotten interesting.  
  
“No,” Blabberwort said. She had to be the third ugliest chick he had ever seen, the first being his aunt Phyllis. “But I've got some Dwarf moss, and it'll really blow your head off. Look at this.” She pulled a woody brown clump out of her leather armor. “Last time I took it, I saw Fairies for three days.”   
  
“Nicey-nice,” Burly said. “Roll us a giant. This may be a long night.”   
  
“You got it.” Blabberwort tore a fat leaf off the beanstalk and rolled the Dwarf moss in it.   
  
Hyde couldn't believe it. They were they gonna have a circle right under them. He climbed down a foot but found he couldn't go any lower. Donna was holding him back by his jacket collar.  
  
“What do you think you're doing?” she said.  
  
“Getting some of that Dwarf moss.”   
  
“Do you really think _now_ is the time to be thinking about a circle?”  
  
“Donna, we're stuck on a beanstalk, we got freakin' Trolls trying to kill us, I've had to be around Jackie all damn day—now is exactly the time for a circle.”   
  
“Bluebell! Burly! Blabberwort!” the Troll King called through the forest. “Where are you?”   
  
Donna lowered herself down and got in Hyde's face. “Hey! My stupid boyfriend's probably stuck in that prison. Once we've gotten him safe with Kelso and Fez, then you can think about joining those Trolls.”   
  
“Whatever,” he said, but Donna was right. He wasn't actually going to do anything. And the Troll kids were gone anyway. They'd rolled up and rolled out.  
  
“Hey, Steven,” Jackie had climbed next to him, “do you think I should put them on again?”   
  
“What?”  
  
“The shoes have got to be fully charged by now.” Jackie caressed one of the knapsack straps on his shoulder.  
  
“Man,” he moved higher on the beanstalk, “you're worse than Fez when he's near a boob.”  
  
“But, Steven...”   
  
He didn't have to see her to know she was pouting. That pout had worked its sorcery on him too many times, but he was immune to it now. She wasn't getting those shoes back from him... or anything else. 

***

The Prison Governor paced his office while two of his wardens stood by silently. Fez was keeping quiet, too. A rope still leashed him to the Governor's desk, and his stomach was still starving.   
  
“I've got keys going missing,” the Governor said. “I've got Trolls and wolves and Queens missing. What in the fairying forest has happened to basic security in this prison?”   
  
“Sir,” one of the wardens said, “while we were searching the prison, we found that the door to the cellars was unlocked at the time of the Queen's breakout.”  
  
_Cellar?_ Fez perked up his ears.   
  
“It is possible she escaped that way,” the warden said.   
  
The Governor did not seem pleased. “What's down there?” He snapped his fingers at the warden who hadn't spoken yet. “You.”  
  
“It's just some old junk, sir,” the second warden said. “It's been there for hundreds of years before this place was a prison.”   
  
“Take the work detail off the laundry room. Have them clear out the whole place, top to bottom.” The Governor nodded at the door. “Now  _get out._ ”  
  
The wardens hurried out of his office. The Governor sneered before walking into his private room.  
  
The mirror back to Point Place was part of that junk. Fez padded over to the desk and stood on his hind legs. The work detail sheet was sitting on the desk. He grasped a pencil with his jaws and scribbled two names below Dicey the Dwarf's: “Michael Kelso” and “Eric Forman”. 

***

Eric had never been part of a chain gang before. It wasn't anything he'd ever aspired to, but he and Kelso were shackled to a long line of inmates. Wardens had marched them down to the cellar, and he immediately recognized the mirror in a pile of junk.   
  
“All right. Now, pay attention!” the Governor said. “Everything here has to be cleared out. So form a human chain, and chuck everything into that boat moored there.” He pointed outside through a stone archway, and across a surprisingly green lawn was a river.   
  
Eric didn't need the wardens to drag him to the river. He was happy to be out in the daylight, away from the darkness of the prison and the smells, even though he was chained to more than a dozen inmates. The end of the line stretched way back into the cellar, and the front of it—Eric—stood too many feet apart from the boat for his liking.   
  
“Uh, excuse me?” Eric said.   
  
“What?” the Governor said.   
  
“Well, sir, we're kind of far away from the boat. Some of this stuff isn't—“ Eric swallowed. Man, that guy reminded him of Red. “It's fragile. Aren't we in danger of breaking it?”   
  
T he Governor's perpetual scowl deepened.  “What do you think this is, Forman, an Elves underwear party? Look, this is scrap. Now do as you're told.”   
  
Eric pointed back toward the cellar. “Um...” Junk was already being passed up the line.   
  
“And shut it!”  
  
The Governor walked away, and Kelso handed Eric a dirt-encrusted vase. Sunlight and the fresh air had done nothing to erase the sullen expression on his friend's face. It had been there since last night.  
  
“Man,” Kelso said, “my back is so itchy,. Being whipped by beanstalks sucks.”  
  
So did being punched in the face by a meat-fisted convict and having teeth ripped out by a lunatic dentist. If nothing else, the pain had made a convincing argument that Eric was, indeed, trapped in another world.   
  
“Listen, Kelso, I—”   
  
“Forman!” the Governor shouted.  
  
Eric hurled the vase, and it shattered on top of the boat's rusty anchor. “Oh, no...”   
  
He gazed down the line. The mirror hadn't been picked up yet, but what the hell was he going to do when he had to toss it? He reached for the next item of junk, and a porcelain dish flew past his nose.   
  
“Kelso!”   
  
The dish crashed into the river.   
  
“Sorry. Jackie never let me do that with her dad's plates,” Kelso said.  _   
  
_ Eric was temped to whack him on his tender back. Now he had another thing to worry about. Not only did he have to get that mirror onto the boat intact, he'd have to get it out of Kelso's destructive hands first.

***

The gloomy, disgusting beanstalk forest had eventually given way to morning-lit woods. Jackie was drowsy, and she was hungry, and all she needed to clear her head were those shoes. But stupid Steven had made sure to keep Donna between him and her all night as they'd traveled. The three of them were in a copse of trees near the river. They'd made it. The Snow White Memorial Prison was just across the water, but Jackie's attention drifted to the knapsack on Steven's back.   
  
She shook her head and felt the urge to kick her own shin She was acting like such a fool.   
  
“I hope they're okay,” Donna said. “They can take care of themselves, right? They can stay out of trouble for one day—can't they?”  
  
“Forman, Kelso, and Fez?” Hyde said.  
  
Donna went pale. “Oh, God. We have to help them.”

***

Eric's shoulders hurt, and his arms were tired. He'd pitched everything from tin pots, splintered chests, and boxes of rusty nails into the boat. But not the mirror, and the cellar was almost empty.  
  
Kelso handed him a platter of copper dishware, and Eric threw it onto the boat. A cracked glass pitcher. Onto the the boat. He scanned the line. A plate of brass cups was next, followed by a cast iron watering can, a wooden bucket, and then...  
  
The mirror. Four people away. Eric tossed the other junk, one-by-one, onto the boat but kept his eye on the mirror the whole time. Finally, a Troll passed it to Kelso, and Kelso turned it so the glass was facing him.   
  
“Mirror, on. Mirror, on,” he whispered. “Mirror  _on!_ ”   
  
“Kelso, let me try,” Eric said. To his relief Kelso gave him the mirror without incident. “Come on, my shiny dove.” His voice was as gentle as a flower's. “Turn on for Eric. Just turn on. On... on!”   
  
“Forman,” the Governor stepped toward him, “what in the fairying forest do you think you're doing?”   
  
Eric slapped the mirror's frame as if it were a TV set on the fritz. “The mirror, it's—it's not working.” He examined the glass. There had to be a way to make it go on.   
  
“Listen, Forman, you little prison princess, throw that mirror on that boat. Now!”  
  
“Uh...” Eric hugged the mirror against his body and looked at the boat. It was so far away and filled with so many rough, mirror-breaking edges. What would his mom say to do?  
  
_Oh, honey. Just tell the nice, angry man the truth. I'm sure he'll understand. Hahahahaha._   
  
Eric turned back to the Governor and spoke sincerely: “No, I can't. I'm afraid it'll break.”  
  
The Governor's scowl disappeared. If he were anything like Red, that was a really,  _really,_ bad sign.  
  
“As you have refused to obey my instructions,” his tone was far quieter than usual—another bad sign, “I am going to push you into the river. As you are connected by leg irons to each of your comrades, they will also, sadly, drown.”  
  
Inmates all down the line stared at Eric menacingly. They'd all kill him before the water did.   
  
“Just do it, Eric,” Kelso said.”I don't wanna drown.”  
  
“Okay, okay,” Eric picked up the mirror and glimpsed at the boat again. Too much broken crap. No safe place to throw. This wasn't going to be pretty. What would his dad say?  
  
_You better not break it, dumbass!_   
  
Eric held his  _breath—Use the Force, Eric_ , he told himself—and hurled the mirror with everything he had. It landed with a crash and a cloud of dust.  
  
But it wasn't broken.   
  
“All right!” He hadn't felt this good since... well, since before he left for Africa.   
  
“Nice!” Kelso said. He clapped Eric on the shoulder, and Eric patted him on the back. “Ow! Watch it.”   
  
“Oh, sorry.” But Eric was so happy, he did it again.   
  
“OW!”   
  
“That was for Hyde,” Eric said.   
  
Kelso smiled. “Good burn—literally. My back's burning. I hate beanstalks.”

***

In spite of their fatigue, Jackie, Steven, and Donna had crossed the river on a wooden bridge.  They were huddled behind a boulder in the shadow of the prison, but Jackie's gaze was transfixed by the shoes. They sparkled under Steven's arm while he looked toward the prison gate.   
  
“You two wait here,” he said. “I'll put these magic suckers on and go back inside the prison.”   
  
“I don't think so.” Jackie grasped the heels of the shoes. “You'll never come back. You just want them for yourself.”  
  
He pulled the shoes away from her. “No, I don't.”   
  
“Yes, you do!” Jackie managed to yank one from him.  
  
He snatched it back. “Yeah, fine.” He gave the shoes to Donna and said, “You wear 'em. I'll hold onto you. And, Jackie, you... hold onto Donna.”   
  
“Why me?” Donna said.  
  
“'Cause if we're touching you, we'll all be invisible.”  
  
“That's not what I meant. I—”  
  
“No!” Jackie tore the shoes from Donna's hands. “ _I_ will wear them. And you can hold onto me.” She sat on the boulder and covered her own shoes with the magic ones.   
  
Donna held onto Jackie's shoulder. “You really are addicted to those things, you know.”   
  
They both started to vanish, and the whirling, happy sensation returned. Steven grabbed Donna's hand before it disappeared, and then he also vanished.  _Donna's_ hand.   
  
_Damn._ Jackie really had to stop that. The shoes had already made her disappear. Maybe if she wore them long enough, her feelings would disappear, too. 

***

The wardens shoved Eric and Kelso back into their cell, and Eric's optimism evaporated as soon as the door banged shut. The mirror was in one piece, but who knew what shape Donna was in—or Fez, for that matter? Too many obstacles stood in their way. Too many.  
  
“Curses!” That was Acorn's voice.   
  
Eric spun around. Acorn and Clayface were standing in front of the wall by Fez's portrait, only Fez's portrait lay on the floor. The stone behind its proper place had been hollowed out.  
  
_Hollowed out?_   
  
“Now we'll have to kill them,” Clayface said, and Acorn nodded.  
  
“A tunnel?” Kelso flailed his arms. “A tunnel!” His voice echoed through the hole.   
  
“ _Shh!_ ” Acorn flailed his own arms, and Eric and Kelso rushed up to him.   
  
“We've been digging for thirty-one years,” Clayface said.  
  
Eric clasped his hands together. “Please take us with you. Please!”   
  
“Listen, you can trust us,” Kelso said. “I swear—dude! I just saw  _Escape From Alcatraz_ in the theater. I can totally pull of Eastwood. I know how to do this!”   
  
Acorn leaned in close to Clayface and said, “Best to suffocate them, I think.”  
  
“No,” Clayface said. “I trust them.”   
  
Clayface took something white out of his shirt and put it into Kelso's hand. It was the bar of soap he'd shown them a day before, but it had been carved into a decent-looking sculpture. Eric was impressed. He really did have talent.  
  
“Thank you,” Kelso said. He sounded like he meant it. “I'd give you Eric's I.D. bracelet, but he already gave it to the Tooth Fairy.”   
  
Clayface nodded as if he understood. Then, one after the other, they all ducked into the tunnel. Dust fell on them as they went, but Eric didn't care as long as the walls didn't collapse—and he  _really_ hoped the walls wouldn't collapse. Donna was out there somewhere, and he had to get to her. Whatever it took.

***

Entering the prison took no effort. They simply followed two wardens inside as they escorted a newly-convicted criminal to his cell. Jackie was using all her control not to laugh, but it was really, really hard. Steven had wrapped his arm around her waist, the most contact they'd had in half-a-year, and it sent as much of a thrill through her body as being invisible did.   
  
They reached the main cell block. Wardens were patrolling the halls, and Jackie slid her hand around Steven's back to pull him closer. It didn't happen. A big goon arm had gotten in her way. He was holding Donna the same way he held her—to make sure they retained the benefit of the magic shoes. Jackie withdrew her hand and frowned. His touch meant nothing.   
  
T he first cell door they came to listed “Inglow the Elf” and “Stagger the Troll” as the convicts imprisoned behind it. “Ten months for being cheeky'?” Donna read underneath the Elf's name. “What are they going to do with Eric?”   
  
“We gotta find where they bring new prisoners,” Steven said.  
  
They went further down the corridor, and Donna commented on another cell. Hearthard the Dwarf was sentenced to three years for puppy slaying, and “The Chopper” had two-hundred years for multiple murder. Jackie shuddered. She really wanted Donna to stop reading doors.   
  
“Puppy slaying?” Donna whispered. “ _ Puppy slaying? _ What about Fez?” As if in response, a dog barked from somewhere up ahead. “Listen,” she said. “Listen, that must be him. That's Fez.”   
  
Donna led them to the only door without bars or prisoners' names listed on it. It wasn't locked, and inside was some kind of office—and Fez. Eight bowls of uneaten food were beside him, and a rope tied him to a desk. His nose sniffed at the air. Did he know they were in the room?   
  
The knot on the desk leg started to unravel by itself.  _ Donna _ . She was the only one besides Jackie who had a free hand.   
  
“What are you doing?” Jackie said. “We can't take him with us. He'll drain all the power in the shoes, and we'll become visible. Steven, tell her.”   
  
“Take him,” he said, “and grab those keys, too.”   
  
Donna lifted a set of keys from the wall and Fez's rope from the desk, and they both faded away. Fez disappeared soon after.   
  
The magic-haze cleared from Jackie's mind, replaced by a cloud of shame. How could she ever think of leaving Fez? Of course they had to take him. She was being so horrible. Those shoes were worse than the wedding dresses she tried on every week at the mall.  
  
“If you can understand me, Fez,” Donna said, “bring us to Eric and Kelso.”  
  
Fez must have taken the lead because Steven was yanked forward. His arm slipped from Jackie's waist, but she caught his hand before the contact was broken. Silently, invisibly, he closed his fingers around her palm and pulled her along.   
  
They stopped at a cell door.   
  
“This is it. I can hear Fez scratching at it,” Donna said.   
  
Jackie stroked the back of Steven's hand with her thumb. She wanted to reach towards his unseeable face, feel his breath on her lips...  
  
His fingers withdrew from her palm and returned to her waist. Their removal shocked her mind—into proper thinking. It was all the shoes doing, their terrible, wonderful influence. She needed to take them off. She needed to go home. Once they found stupid Michael and stupid Eric, she'd go through that mirror and finally forget what she—what the shoes were making her want. She'd forget Steven Hyde for good.   
  
Too bad there wasn't a spell to make her believe it. 

 


	11. The Only Way Out Is Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 11  
 **THE ONLY WAY OUT IS THROUGH**

According to the cell door, Forman and Kelso had some interesting roommates: Acorn the Dwarf and Clayface the Goblin. They'd been convicted of aggravated assault and carving. Sounded like a few of Hyde's uncles.  
  
“Huh. Ninety-eight years for carving. I bet Forman wet his pants when he read that,” Hyde said.   
  
He was trying to focus on the door while Donna figured out what key opened the lock, but he was doing a piss-poor job of it. Jackie smelled like beanstalk, and her hair fuzzed against his ear. The warmth of her waist underneath his arm made him tense as hell. He wanted to break into one of these cells and lock himself in—and her out. The magic shoes were screwing with his head, too.  
  
Donna was halfway through the keys, and none of them fit. If Hyde's hands hadn't been otherwise occupied, he would've pulled the lock pick from his pocket. He always carried one along with his lighter. A guy never knew when he'd have to get into a locked room—so he could find something to smoke. He was about to suggest a rearrangement of bodies, but Donna finally found the key. She unlocked the door, and the three of them went inside.   
  
“Eric? Eric, are you in here?” Donna said, but the cell was empty. “Where are they?”  
  
Jackie groaned. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, causing her hips to sway in that damn cute way of hers when she was frustrated.  
  
Wait. Had he just seen that?   
  
Yup. He saw her whole annoyed body, and Donna stood right in front of her with doggy Fez. They were all visible.   
  
The cell floor lurched beneath Hyde's feet, and he found it hard to balance. He grabbed onto one of the bunk beds to keep from falling. His legs were wobbling. His skull was pounding. The shoes had given him a freakin' hangover.  
  
_ “Ugh! _ I told you this would happen. The shoes are completely drained,” Jackie said. She pulled the knapsack off Hyde, clearly taking advantage of his current state. If she wanted to carry those shoes, he wasn't going to stop her. His head hurt too damn much to do anything about it.   
  
As he tried to distance himself from the pain, Jackie pouted about being visible, Donna moaned about Forman, Fez was barking at a portrait of himself, his human self—and all of it ramped up the pounding in Hyde's skull.   
  
“Would you knock it off?” Hyde shouted at Fez and ripped the portrait from the wall. Behind it was a hole— _ a tunnel. _ “Man, Kelso really must have really wanted to get out of here. Probably used Forman as a drill.”   
  
Donna shoved him into the hole. “Shut up and go!”  
  
Hyde crawled through the tunnel on his knees and bent arms. The dusty air scratched his throat, but his headache started to fade. The tunnel seemed longer than the waterslide at Funland, and the more he crawled, the less he saw. Everything was darkness.   
  
“Do you see the exit?” Donna said behind him.  
  
“Nope.”   
  
He picked up the pace. His denim jacket offered some protection from the hard ground, but his arms were gonna be sore tomorrow. This whole deal was more work than he'd bargained for. Jumping through that mirror? Second biggest mistake of his life. He always knew he'd have to do a prison break someday, but this wasn't how he imagined it. His escape involved a hot prison guard named Miss October, not an endless tunnel.   
  
Or maybe it wasn't endless. A halo of light glimmered further up and got brighter as he went along. He crawled even faster. The light got even brighter. It was sunlight. Had to be. They were close to the outside. He was feeling pretty good now. His headache was almost gone.  
  
Then his skull banged into something both hard and soft. He couldn't go any further. Whatever he'd bumped into, it was blocking the tunnel. He poked it with his finger. The thing was too mushy to be a boulder. Too smelly to be a door.  
  
“Kelso?” he said.  
  
“Uh... who wants to know?”   
  
“Why the hell aren't you moving?” Hyde frogged him on the ass.   
  
“Hyde! You're alive!”   
  
“Yeah, yeah, that's great. Now move it.”   
  
“I can't,” Kelso said. “The exit's right here, but I'm stuck!”  
  
“What a surprise... moron.” Hyde tried shoving him forward with his hands, but Kelso was too badly wedged. “If you fart on me, I'll kill you.” He pressed into Kelso with his whole upper body. His face was closer to Kelso's ass than he'd ever allow it to be again, but Kelso popped free of the tunnel like a cork and crashed onto the grass outside.  
  
Hyde fell through the opening on top of him. Kelso still being alive had its benefits. He made for a soft landing.   
  
“Hyde!” Forman's voice.   
  
A pair of hands slipped under Hyde's armpits and pulled him up. Those were Forman's, too.   
  
“I'm so glad you're not—Donna!” Forman ran past him and helped Donna out of the tunnel.   
  
She pulled him into her arms the moment she was outside. “Eric! Oh, thank God.”   
  
“Donna, did the Trolls—did they hurt you?”  
  
“Not really. They gave me a tattoo. Did you get a prison boyfriend?”   
  
“No, but I met the Tooth Fairy.”  
  
They were blocking the tunnel with their lovefest. Fez had started to bark from inside, but neither of them seemed to hear it.   
  
“Hey, Forman,” Hyde said, “Donna called you her boyfriend yesterday.”   
  
Forman moved away from her and grinned with oddly shiny teeth. “Did you?”   
  
“She did. And we were up a very phallic tree when she said it.”  
  
“No, Hyde... I—no.” Donna rabbited over to Kelso. Mission accomplished.   
  
Fez poked his head through the tunnel's opening, and the dust of crumbling stone fell on him. He was whining and shifting his gaze from the hole to the ground.  
  
Hyde grabbed him by the scruff, “Becoming a dog's made you more of a pussy, huh?” then pulled him from the hole.   
  
“I had to smell Fez's butt the whole time,” Jackie said when she reached the opening. “His tail kept hitting me in the face.”  
  
“Yeah, today's been an ass-face kind of day.” Hyde eased his hands around Jackie's body and lifted her out—just so she wouldn't bruise herself on the way down. She was complaining about enough already.  
  
Kelso enveloped her as soon as her feet touched the grass.“I'm so happy you're not dead!” He laughed and spun her around. The sight of it made Hyde want to look anywhere else. He turned his attention to Fez, whose own attention was on the river.   
  
“Okay, we have to find a way to get back into the prison and get the mirror,” Donna said.   
  
“What? No. No, we don't.” Forman pointed to the water, but he was looking at Donna. “I threw it on a trash barge. On this this river, right here!”  
  
“You mean that river there?” Hyde said. Some distance away, a boat full of junk was floating on the current.   
  
“Hey, that's the Dwarf!” Kelso shouted, running toward the water. “He's got our mirror!” But Hyde and Forman both yanked him back before he could dive into the river. “Guys, he's getting away!”   
  
“You'll never catch up,” Forman said.  
  
“But I'm a fast swimmer.”   
  
“Oh, please. You can barely dog paddle,” Jackie said.   
  
“N'uh-uh!”   
  
“Remember the one and only time I brought you to Daddy's country club? You jumped into the pool fully clothed and flopped around like a dying fish.”  
  
Kelso rolled his eyes. “It's called synchronized swimming— _ God! _ ”  
  
The boat was now a brown dot on the surface of the river. The Dwarf, and the mirror, were long gone.  
  
Hyde stood back and rested his hands on his belt buckle. If only he'd swiped some of that Dwarf moss from the Trolls. A circle would've been a nice break—'cause it looked like they were all going to be stuck here for a while. 


	12. The Boat's a Cruiser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 12  
 **THE BOAT'S A CRUISER**

Hyde's plans to score himself some Dwarf moss were cut short. Donna found a small wooden yacht further down the riverbank, and its owner didn't seem to be around.

"Guys, we can totally follow the mirror on this," she said. "Maybe we'll even catch up."

Forman shook his head. "But, Donna, what about the guy who owns the boat? Won't he be upset if it's missing?"

"Who cares?" Hyde unmoored the boat from the dock with a satisfied grin. Stealing was almost as much fun as having a circle, and swiping something this big was a nice first for him.

"So..." Forman said once everyone had boarded, "how do we drive this thing?"

Jackie waved at the mast. "Okay, Donna, since you have those lumberjack arms, unfurl the—"

" _No_... no!" Kelso said. "Who said _you_ get to command this ship? I'm the only one with a rank here."

"Yeah, and _I'm_ the only one who's had experience on boats, _Michael._ "

"Wha—so? If I still had my badge, I'd—"

Hyde had no interest in this fight, so he took himself on a quick tour. The boat was a good size. It had a shelter in the middle of the deck, and stairs inside the shelter led down to sleeping quarters. He found two bunk beds there, a sink, and a craphole. Decent. He finished the tour by claiming the top bunk farthest from the stairs.

All was relatively quiet when he returned above deck. The choice of captain, apparently, had been decided.

"Michael, go into the cubby and start up that weird steam engine," Jackie said and pointed to the shelter. "Donna, unfurl the mainsail. Eric, take control of the rudder."

The boat pulled away from the dock without sinking or throwing anyone overboard. Jackie was definitely the right person for the job. If Kelso had won that fight, Hyde would've mutinied, but he had no intention of taking her orders either. Her captain's voice was as abrasive as her normal one. She used to yap to him about the summers she spent on "Daddy's" yacht, about learning how to sail, how she sunned herself on deck. But her "great tan" was never the main event of the stories. It was the sky. She always described the sky in such freakin' poetic terms, like she was in love with it. If that crap was gonna start up again, he'd have to find something to stab his eardrums with.

"Subtle movements, Eric," Jackie said. "Donna, keep up the tension on that line. Michael..."

Hyde leaned over the boat rail and watched the river flow by. In a few minutes, he'd be able to block her out—

"Don't let them get away!"

That wasn't Jackie's voice. He looked back toward the dock. The Troll King was pointing at the river, and his dumbass kids were charging ahead of him.

"Michael!" Jackie ran into the shelter.

Kelso's head popped up. "Wha—holy shit! Eric, watch out!"

The three Troll kids leapt off the dock and crashed into the water just behind the boat. Bluebell and Blabberwort thrashed around ineffectually, but Burly pulled himself onto the rudder and started to climb up.

"Somebody do something!" Forman shouted.

"You're dog meat!" Burly was halfway onto the stern.

Hyde searched the deck for something, anything he could use as a weapon, but Jackie barreled out of the shelter with a wooden board. She screamed like a maniac and bashed it against the Troll's skull. She hit him again and again until he slipped off the rudder.

Burly struggled to keep his head above water while his siblings swam back to land—and to their pissed-off Papa. Hyde smirked. The Troll King would probably shove his foot up their dumb asses.

The boat drifted farther and farther away, and everyone onboard shouted sailor-worthy burns at the uggos except for Jackie. She was breathing heavily and the wooden board was shaking in her hands. Her takedown of that Troll was pretty badass, but Hyde kept his mouth shut. One wrong word, and his skull was next.

* * *

The dock was no longer visible on the horizon. Forman did a good job steering the boat, and Hyde left him to it. The water they sailed on gave a smooth ride. Mountains rose along the river, and mist drifted from them into a hazy sky. This trip would've actually been enjoyable if there weren't so many things out to kill him. The farthest out of Point Place he'd gone was Vegas, but gambling and boozing and watching strippers didn't give him the same mellow that nature did. Or his stash.

Hyde considered going below deck to take take a nap, but then he spotted Jackie on the bow. She was sitting there all alone, caressing the Troll King's shoes. Her pupils were dilated, and he was tempted to loan her his shades 'cause she looked like a total burnout.

He sat down beside her, but she didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were too busy flirting with the air.

"You do realize you have no makeup on, and your hair's flatter than Forman's ass," he said.

She gazed at the sky. "I'm still prettier than anyone here."

"Yeah..." He didn't know if she meant this boat or the whole of the Nine Kingdoms. He brushed a few strands of hair from her face. "Yeah, you are."

She finally looked at him and put a hand over her heart. "Oh, Steven! You still think I'm bea—"

He made his move. He snatched the shoes from her and flung them into the river.

"No!" Jackie shouted. "No, no... NO!"

She ran to the boat railing and swung a leg over it. She was determined to have those those shoes even if it meant drowning, but Hyde yanked her back on deck before she could jump.

"Jackie, just chil—"

She elbowed him in the ribs, smacked his jaw, elbowed him again. His grip on her arm was slipping. If she got free... He pinned her to the deck, using the weight of his body.

"Why did you do that?" Jackie's voice shook as if he'd cut off her foot—or her hair.

"'Cause it had to be done," he said.

She rammed her knee into him, inches from his 'nads. He sat up and straddled her waist, grabbed onto her wrists. He hated this, having to restrain her—having to be so damn close to her—but letting her drown was the only alternative.

"You threw away my shoes!" She managed to kick his back. Freakin' cheerleading.

"You were gonna put them on tonight, weren't you?" he said.

"Yes!" Jackie said. "I—wait, how did you know that?"

Her body finally relaxed, and her pupils were shrinking to their natural state. She'd be back to her normal self soon, which was good because he was tired of having to deal with her.

"Magic shoes—Jackie Burkhart," he raised an eyebrow, "how could anyone not know that?"

* * *

Kelso couldn't believe how quickly his luck had changed. He'd gone from lowly prisoner to captain of a mighty ship in a matter of hours. Jackie had abandoned the job without explanation. And just seconds ago, Eric left the rudder to follow Donna below deck—even though her joy at seeing him alive seemed to have worn off. She'd made fun of his shiny new choppers, got pissed he'd given up the I.D. bracelet 'cause _"You shouldn't have been wearing it in the first place, dink!"_ and stomped downstairs. And that was how Kelso became captain. Captain Kelso and his doggy first mate, Fez.

"Mr. Fez," he said, "how does the water look?"

Fez was staring at the river over the rail. "It looks wet. Kelso—"

"Call me 'Captain'."

"Captain Kelso," Fez said, "thank you for trying to free me, even though you failed so miserably at it."

"Aw, think nothing of it, buddy." Kelso patted Fez's head. "I'm a cop. That's what cops do."

"Yes, and you are my friend. Does your back still hurt?"

Kelso shifted in his seat by the rudder. "A little... Hey, listen. Don't tell Hyde about it, okay? 'Cause he'd just hit me. And then he'd laugh. And I'm not really in the mood for that."

"Don't worry. I won't tell him."

"Because we're friends?"

"No, because he doesn't understand anything I say." Fez sighed. "I have missed so much. "Donna and Eric are no longer together. Jackie and Hyde are back together—"

"Uh, no they're not. They're totally over. Hyde hasn't even looked at her in months, which is great since I plan on doing it with her here... as much as humanly possible."

"Then you will have to get past Hyde because he's keeping a close watch on her."

"He is?" Kelso stood up and looked toward the bow. Hyde and Jackie were wrestling over something. But then they fell onto the deck, and Kelso couldn't see them anymore. "Oh, man, are they about to—I am the captain of this boat!" he shouted across the deck. "There will be no doing it unless I am involved!" He tried to get a better view, but the shelter was in the way, and he wasn't about to leave his post. Fez couldn't steer with his paws.

Moments later, Jackie and Hyde were on their feet. Neither of them were naked, but Jackie did seem a little dazed. She went below deck alone while Hyde joined Kelso at the stern.

"Hey." Hyde leaned against the rail and crossed his arms.

"What were you and Jackie fighting over?" Kelso said.

"Nothing that matters now."

"You know," Kelso jerked his thumb at Fez, "my first mate thinks you guys are back together."

Hyde scratched Fez behind the ears. "You want her, boy? She's all yours."

Fez wagged his tail.

"No, he can't." Kelso grabbed Fez's tail to stop it from wagging. "I already have dibs. Anyway, she doesn't do doggy style. I tried that with her one ti—ow!" Hyde had frogged him. "What was that for?"

"Just glad you're alive, man."

Kelso smiled and rubbed his shoulder. "Me, too. I'm glad Trolls didn't eat you."

"Yup." Hyde pushed himself off the rail and stood again. "That would've been a downer." Then he returned to the bow.

"Damn. Now I'm hungry," Kelso said.

He rifled through the pockets of his prison-issue jacket. He'd stashed some dried beanstalk sticks somewhere, but instead he found Clayface's soap. Three guys, two chicks, and a doggy were carved into it like tiny action figures, and on the base were the words: _The Six Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms._

"Cool," he said, "but it looks nothing like me." He chucked the soap sculpture into the river.

"What was that? Was it candy?" Fez said.

"Nope. I would've eaten that."

* * *

Donna awoke to a terrible, unrelenting clamor. Kelso was banging on a metal pot— _was it morning already?_ —and she covered her ears. She'd slept on a bunk below deck, and it wasn't a bad sleep. But now she was getting a headache. Kelso had taken his captain duties seriously. He'd stayed by the rudder all night, although she had a feeling he'd slept through most of it. And he kept banging on that damn pot.

"Kelso, would you cut it out?"

"Not until everyone's awake, Donna!"

Eric was twisted in a blanket on the bunk across from hers. Fez was curled up at the end of it, but one bang of the pot by his ears made him jump off. Another bang, and Eric finally shot up—he'd always been a heavy sleeper—and hit his head on the the bed above him.

"Ow!"

The front panel of a dresser crashed down next to his bunk. Behind it was a fish tank with a large, dead fish suspended inside.

"What is that?" Kelso dropped the pot and ran to the tank. "Whoa, that's one hell of a fish. Look at the teeth on it."

A golden plaque was screwed onto the dresser. Eric read it out loud. "World Famous Golden River Gold Fish."

"Let me guess—it's magic?" Hyde spoke from the stairs, and he sounded cranky. Spending the night above deck couldn't have been pleasant. But with Jackie sleeping down here, Donna understood why he'd done it.

"Hey, guys, check it out," Kelso said. Fez was standing next to him, wagging his tail. "Fez says this is the famous, anything-you-touch-will-turn-to-gold fish."

Donna crept out of bed and went to the tank. Another plaque was screwed into the dresser, and a small red hammer lay above it on hooks.

"Warning: Do not break glass except in case of financial emergency," the plaque said.

"Look!" Eric pointed to a curled piece of paper inside the tank. On it was a poem:

Stick your finger in my mouth.  
Then turn around 'til you face south.  
Touch a thing that you would prize,  
And you will not believe your eyes.  
Here is magic to behold.  
All that glitters can be gold.

Eric and Kelso looked at each other in awe.

"All right!" Eric said.

Hyde crossed his arms. "Super."

Jackie leapt out of the top bunk, fully awake, as if the poem had been an alarm.

"Gold?" she said and grabbed the hammer off the hooks. "You mean, I could touch anything?"

Donna snatched the hammer from her. "We don't need to turn anything into gold. What we need is to find some food. Water isn't enough."

"But, Donna," Eric said, "gold is gold. The guy who owned this boat's probably living it up in some castle somewhere. I could—I could touch a boulder. A boulder of gold!"

"Or a mountain!" Kelso said.

"Or yourself, moron!" Hyde said. "You'd end up forgetting you had a magic finger, pick your nose, and become the golden statue _Moronicus._ "

Kelso glowered at him. "I wouldn't forget, _Hyde._ If anything, Eric would turn Donna into gold."

"I would not, you dillhole!" Eric slapped Kelso on the back, and Kelso cried out in pain like he'd been hit by someone with actual strength. "Donna," Eric said to her, "I wouldn't."

"That's right because I'm keeping this thing," she shook the hammer in their faces, "far away from you idiots."

Eric and Kelso's expressions fell in disappointment, but she really would have to find a sneaky hiding spot. Dink and Doofus were completely capable of turning one of them into gold.

"If either of them try to take that hammer away from you," Hyde said, "hit 'em in the jewels with it."

Donna tapped the hammer on her palm. That was good advice.


	13. Poor Man, Rich Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 13  
 **POOR MAN, RICH MAN**

Everyone had agreed Hyde should find and cook them some lunch. Donna's cooking almost poisoned Forman once, Jackie was as good a chef as Kelso was a physicist, and Kelso would probably set the boat on fire. So everyone agreed—except for Hyde. Forman should've been the one to cook, since he'd helped “Mommy” in the kitchen so many times, but Hyde didn't actually mind. It gave him some much needed alone time, which was hard to get with four other people and a dog-person in the way.   
  
The quarters below deck were cramped, but he was used to that. A mirror hung on the wall above the sink, and he checked himself out for the first time since they'd left Point Place. Yeah, he still had it going on, but his beard was getting a little too “mountain man,” even for him.   
  
He took off his shades and brought a knife to his face. This wasn't going to be pleasant, but— _ fuck it. _ Who was he shaving for? He tossed the knife into the drawer where he'd found it and took one last look at his reflection...   
  
Only it wasn't his face in the mirror.   
  
“Laurie?”   
  
“Finally. Hey, Hyde,” Laurie said from the mirror. A small diamond crown was sitting on top of her feathered blonde hair. “What took you so long to look at your own stupid reflection?”  
  
“I don't need a mirror to know I look good.”   
  
Laurie smirked. “You're got a lot of confidence for a burnout loser.”   
  
“Yeah, great. What the hell are you doing in...” Hyde froze.  _ She was wearing a crown. _ “It's you. You're the hot Evil Queen who turned Fez into a dog... Nice work.”   
  
“Thanks. I've learned a lot in the last couple of years.”  
  
“Like how to screw someone to death without giving him a disease?”   
  
“And how to use poison,” Laurie said. She sounded real proud of that fact.  
  
“Yeah,” he said, “I heard about that. So you're finally living up to your full potential.”   
  
Laurie narrowed her eyes, as if she had no idea what he was talking about.   
  
Hyde slid his glasses back on. Something was really off about this. He'd never liked Laurie. In fact, she'd always kind of repulsed him. Good for a few burns, maybe, but nothing else. Now his dislike was broiling into a full-on hatred. Killing Fez's parents, turning Fez into a dog—those weren't burns.  
  
“Listen,” she said, “I'm going to come into a lot of land soon, and I won't have time to rule it all. If you help me out, I'll give you your own kingdom... and you can do whatever you want with it.”   
  
She was smiling at him, but it wasn't her usual smug or seductive smirk. This one was so full of tempting promises it cut straight through his Zen, almost as if there were freakin' magic in it. He felt his hands moving towards his face; they were headed for his shades, but he crossed his arms before they could reach them.  
  
“A kingdom of my own, huh? What do you want?”  
  
“Oh, nothing really,” Laurie said. “Just tell me who you're with. I know you're not alone, but I can't see them.”   
  
Hyde sucked in a breath. This was bad. Of all the people she could see, why him? What had he done to deserve that special, sick honor?   
  
“Fine,” he said, “but first you tell me something. How'd you get here? Last I knew, you were up in Canada.”  
  
“'Canada'?” She looked at him like she'd never heard of the place. “So... who is it? Is Fez with you?”  
  
“Nope. Picked up a couple of skanks back in the Third Kingdom. A guy's gotta get some ass even in fairy tales, right?”   
  
Laurie rolled her eyes. “Why can't I see your loser friends? What magic have you scored?”  
  
“If I had magic, you think I'd be nailing skanks? No way, man. I'd be nailing princesses.”   
  
“Hyde?” The voice came from behind him. Forman was clomping down the stairs.   
  
Hyde tore the mirror off the wall and shoved it into the drawer.   
  
“Have you found any food or not?” Forman said.  
  
“Not.” Hyde moved past him and went up to the deck. He wasn't going to tell Forman, or any of them, about Laurie yet. They had enough to deal with. And he didn't need Forman becoming more of a girl than he already was. 

***

Eric's stomach grumbled so badly that he almost wished he were back in that prison. Eating beanstalk soup was better than eating the nothing on this boat. His last hope was the cabinet beneath the sink.   
  
He opened it with a whispered prayer. Inside, sitting alone on a shelf, was a box of bran flakes. He picked up the box and shook it.   
  
The box was full.   
  
“Thank you, King Neptune,” he said. Then he shouted up the stairs, “Hey, I found som—”  
  
A glint of gold flashed at the corner of his eyes. It was the magic fish. The famous, anything-you-touch-will-turn-to-gold fish. Eric put down the box of flakes and sidled over to the tank. The fish was an ugly thing, but he couldn't take his eyes off it. It was so... gold. He started to count its teeth, and the fish winked at him.   
  
Eric's mouth went agape.  _ The fish winked.   
  
_ Or maybe it had blinked. He couldn't see the other eye.   
  
“Kelso,” he whispered, but he didn't actually want anyone to come down here.  
  
Donna still had the hammer, but there had to be something else around that could break that glass. The box of bran flakes obviously wouldn't cut it. The drawer by the sink only had a knife and a dirty mirror. He turned to the bunk he'd slept on and checked the ladder. Some its wooden rungs were loose. He yanked on one as hard as he could, and it ripped off so easily it whapped him in the face.   
  
“Owwwyeah!” he said, though his forehead throbbed. “I am the ki—”  
  
Kelso's head peeked from the top of the stairs. “Eric, we're starving up here!”  
  
Eric buried the rung in the blanket of his bunk. “I got cereal.” he said and grabbed the box of bran flakes. He joined everyone above deck after one, wistful glance at the fish. Finally, Eric Forman was going to be more than just a duck.   
  
He was going to be a rich duck.

***

That had almost been the lamest meal Hyde had ever eaten. If Kelso hadn't found the bottles of rum hidden under the bunks, it would have been. Bran and booze, a great combo. Forman kept trying to get Donna to drink some, probably to get her hammered enough to swipe that hammer off her. But the river turned out to be freshwater, so she stuck to that... which meant more booze for Hyde.  
  
Until it ran out. Kelso went down to the sleeping quarters to look for another stash. Five minutes later, no news. Five minutes after that, still nothing. Kelso was sure taking his sweet time. Hyde laced his fingers behind his head and lay back against the shelter. No use in staying awake when—  
  
A crash, like glass breaking, reverberated from below deck.   
  
_ The booze!  _   
  
Hyde got to his feet and ran downstairs. Kelso was standing by the fish tank. Shards of glass covered the floor by his feet.   
  
“What did you do?” Hyde said.   
  
“I, uh, I...” Kelso's right hand held onto a rung from one of the bunk ladders, but his left hand was hidden behind his back.   
  
Hyde moved closer to him. “What. Did. You.  _ Do? _ ”   
  
Kelso whipped out his left hand and wiggled his pinky. The tip of it sparkled as if he'd dipped it into some of Jackie's gold eyeshadow.   
  
“I've got a magic finger!” he said. “It's magic—see?” He shoved it in Hyde's face.   
  
Hyde took two huge strides backwards. “You trying to turn me into gold, dillhole? Keep it the hell away from me.”  
  
“No—no, don't worry about it. I'm gonna be rich! I could turn this entire boat into gold.”   
  
“Yeah, and then it would sink, and we would all drown.”   
  
“Oh. Right.” Kelso almost scratched his head but spotted the gold twinkling on his pinky in time. “That was a close one, huh?”  
  
Hyde wanted to grab him, put him in a headlock, and punch him until he passed out—but no way would he risk getting touched by that golden nose-picker. So he just scowled at him.   
  
“Okay, okay,” Kelso said, “I'll wait until I find the right thing. Then I'll buy you a sports car once we get back to Point Place. Deal?”  
  
“The Camino's fine”   
  
“I'll buy you air freshener—”  
  
“Kelso, man, whatever.”   
  
“—and some fuzzy dice for it.” Kelso walked to the stairs and kept his pinky in the air. “You're gonna thank me for this.”   
  
“Yeah.” Hyde waited until Kelso was on deck before climbing the stairs himself. As long as that moron had the Finger of Golden Death, he wasn't going to turn his back on him.  
  
By the time Hyde emerged above deck, everyone had Kelso surrounded by the rudder. Donna looked like she was going to shove him overboard, but Forman was in fits.  
  
“No... no, no, NO!  _ I _ was supposed to break the glass.  _ I  _ was supposed to get the ma... gic... finger?”   
  
Donna turned her glare on him. She was holding a small telescope and striking it against her palm.   
  
Forman swallowed. “Never mind.”   
  
Hyde joined everyone at the stern, making sure to keep plenty of distance between him and Goldfinger.  
  
“Kelso,” Donna said, “how could you do this?”   
  
“I found a piece of wood under a blanket and—”  
  
“That was  _ my _ wood!” Eric said.  
  
Donna whacked his shoulder with the telescope. “Eric!”  
  
“But I could've brought enough gold back with us to pay for college and a house. Not a trailer, Donna.  _ A house. _ ”   
  
“A house you'd be living in all by yourself,” she said.   
  
“Oh, lighten up, Donna,” Jackie said. She was gazing at Kelso's finger like it was a diamond necklace or a freakin' wedding dress. “And, Eric? Cheer up. I'm sure Michael will buy you a rubber band or something after he buys me a Ferrari.”   
  
Kelso slipped his right arm around her shoulders. “That's my girl! Stick with me, baby, and I'll take you places.”   
  
“Stick with him, and you'll be a gold bar,” Hyde said.  
  
“You're just jealous 'cause you didn't think of it first,” Kelso said.   
  
Jackie frowned. “No, he's not. He doesn't care about money... or, you know,  _ people. _ ”  
  
“Jackie!” Donna said, but Hyde kept silent.   
  
“Hey,” Kelso waved his twinkling pinky at him, “Fez says, 'Burn!'”   
  
Hyde frogged him in the left arm..   
  
“Ow!” Kelso withdrew his right hand from Jackie's shoulder and rubbed what would, hopefully, become a bruise. “ _ Fez _ said it.”   
  
“Fez is experiencing the burn of his life,” Hyde said. Then he smiled. “Frogging him would be gratuitous.” Kelso no longer had his arm around Jackie, but that wasn't why he was smiling. Causing Kelso pain was one of his life's little joys.   
  
“Hey, guys? Over there.” Donna pointed to the riverbank. Beyond it, nestled between two tree-covered hills, was a chewed-up castle. “We must be getting close to a town or something.” She raised the telescope and looked out over the water  
  
Hyde stared at the castle. Something about it reminded him of the rundown house he used to live in with Edna. Not just its ramshackle appearance, but the feeling he got from it. Bad shit had gone down in there. He beat back a shudder. He wasn't going to let some place he was never gonna go freak him out. Fez, though, had started to pace the deck like a caged animal.  
  
“What's wrong with him?” Hyde said. “Does he need to take a dump?”   
  
Kelso shook his head. “No. He says he feels like he's two people at the same time.”   
  
“What does that mean?” Eric took the telescope from Donna and put it up to his eye. “Is he going Sybil or someth—Hey! We  _ have _ reached a town. Look at those cute little houses... wait, wait! That's Acorn's boat! It's tied to the dock.”   
  
Hyde grabbed the telescope and peered through it. Yeah, that trash barge was definitely tied to the dock. Maybe they'd get back to Point Place sooner than he thought.   
  
“This is great!” Kelso said. “I'm gonna touch something big and go home a king!”   
  
Fez had stopped pacing, but now his front paws were on the boat railing.   
  
“Uh, Kelso...” Hyde nodded at Fez.   
  
“He says he's gotta go to the castle.” Kelso looked toward the chewed-up hellhole. “Why, Fez? It's gross. Let's get the mirror.”   
  
Fez glanced back at him, but then he pushed off his hind legs and jumped over the boat's edge. Kelso ran to the railing, but Fez was already in the river, doggy paddling to the castle.   
  
“What do you mean your human body is there?” Kelso shouted after him. “Come back, Fez!”   
  
Donna tapped Kelso's back, and he whipped around like he'd been stung by a bee.   
  
“Quit it!” he said. “We have to go after him.”   
  
“Kelso, we can't.” Donna's voice was shaking. Kelso's magic pinky had almost grazed her cheek. “Let's find Acorn and get the mirror.”   
  
“Good idea.” Forman went to the rudder and steered the boat toward the dock.   
  
“Fez'll be all right,” Kelso said. “Right?”  
  
Jackie shrugged. “Not really. He did let himself get turned into a dog.”   
  
Kelso watched as Fez swam to the castle, but Hyde joined Forman by the rudder. If Jackie knew just who had turned Fez into a dog, she'd probably be less condescending about it—and more freaked. Nope, he'd keep that little slutty gem to himself for as long as he could. 


	14. What Do We Exchange For Him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 14  
**WHAT DO WE EXCHANGE FOR HIM?**

Jackie was not going to find her prince in Rivertown.  
  
Men in oversized coats and woolen caps bustled up and down the docks. They were bringing things onto their boats, taking things off. They shouted to each other in lower-class accents and smelled of fish. If the people here were any indication, she was definitely not going to find her prince in Rivertown. Or the mirror either, so it seemed.   
  
“Acorn's been here all morning,” a gray-haired man said. He was rearranging the junk in Acorn's boat, and his eyebrows were far too bushy. “He left—oh, not half-an-hour ago.”  
  
“When's he coming back?” Jackie said.   
  
“He's not. He swapped this lovely boat for my horse and cart. I reckon I got a great deal!” The man sounded way too happy. Jackie wanted to rip his eyebrows off.   
  
“Well, which way did he go?” Donna said.   
  
“He said he'd use the road through the forest. If you hurry, you'll catch him.”   
  
“Good idea,” Eric said. “Good idea. Let's go!  
  
“Oh, no.” Jackie waved her hands. “I can't take another forest.”   
  
“Yeah, hold on—what about Fez?” Michael said.   
  
“He obviously wants to be on his own.” Eric turned toward that disgusting “castle” they'd seen from their boat, and his face went paler than usual. “We'll catch up with him once we have the mirror, okay?”  
  
“But it feels weird just leaving him here,” Michael said. “He must have run off for a reason.”   
  
Jackie nodded. She felt bad for Fez—for whatever was going on with him—but she felt even worse for herself. She just wanted to go home to her shower, to her makeup, and to her bed. But she wasn't exactly sure where any of that was anymore. Her apartment was destroyed, and who knew if Michael's wish on Fenton still had any affect. They'd probably been evicted by now. And being in that house with her mother— _ sometimes  _ with her mother—Jackie shuddered at the thought. That hadn't been home to her in years.  
  
Michael ran toward the “castle,” holding his golden pinky high above his head. “Be back in fifteen minutes!”  
  
“Kelso!” Donna started to go after him, but Eric moved in front of her.  
  
“He said he'd be back in fifteen minutes.”   
  
“This is Kelso we're talking about,” Donna said. “He gets lost on the way to his own bathroom.”   
  
“He'll be fine. Just—I can't go to that castle.” Eric's voice cracked. He was clearly scared... what a surprise. Michael was starting to look brave in comparison.   
  
Donna pushed Eric aside. “You don't have to go, but someone has to.”  
  
“Donna,” Eric said and tugged on her coat sleeve, “if you go, then I have to go, and I don't... I can't.”   
  
“Damn it. I'll go.” Steven was already on his way. “Just to get away from your whining.”  
  
Jackie watched as he ran past the dirty boatmen and disappeared down the dock. Her pulse quickened, and she felt herself take a few steps forward—what was she doing? If anyone could take care of himself, it was Steven. She wasn't going to follow him.  
  
“Donna, do you think they'll be okay?” she said.   
  
“They better be. Because if they're not back in fifteen minutes, I'm going after them. To kill them.”  
  
Jackie stood back and gave the “castle” another look. It was more of a hovel, really, and she didn't want to go there. But there was no way she'd let Michael or Steven get hurt by some magical monster. She was the only one allowed to hurt them. She'd earned that right a long time ago. 

***

Kelso hurried along the docks and passed by a bunch of stalls selling stuff like pottery and animal skins. The uggo castle wasn't far off. Fez had to be close. Kelso sped into his cop's sprint, called out Fez's name, and then he heard barking from behind.   
  
Fez was running through the stalls as fast as his four doggy legs could go. And the Trolls were chasing him.   
  
“I found myself!” Fez said inside Kelso's mind. “In the castle. It was me, my body. I—he needs a shower. And some cologne—but it was me!” He didn't seem to notice the Trolls, who were brandishing their weapons.  
  
“Look out!” Kelso shouted, but the Trolls cornered Fez against a row of barrels. They clutched at him, snatched at him, and Fez snapped his doggy jaws at their hands. “Hey,” Kelso waved at them, “leave him alone!”   
  
One of the Trolls caught Fez around the torso, and another was about to kick him.   
  
“He's just a dog, you botards! I am an officer of the law, and I order you—aw, damn!” Words were pointless. Kelso charged into the fray.

***

Rivertown was rife with useful crap. Hyde was going to nab a few things before they left this place, but right now he needed to nab Kelso. It had taken ten minutes of searching, but Hyde finally spotted him around the stalls, tugging on the mangy prison coat he wore.  
  
“Hey, Kelso!” Hyde called to him. “You find Fez?”  
  
Kelso opened his arms wide in victory. “I beat the Trolls!”   
  
“Yeah, right.”   
  
“No, I did! That's the good part.”  
  
Hyde narrowed his eyes behind his shades. “What's the bad part?”   
  
“You think that boat guy has a chisel?”   
  
“ _What's the bad part?_ ”   
  
“Well...” Kelso led Hyde past some houses. Then Hyde saw the bad part.  
  
Standing on the riverbank was a golden statue. It depicted a dog in mid-run and three Trolls in close pursuit—all in Goddamn gold.   
  
Kelso rested his hand on Fez's golden head. “I think he'll come apart from the others pretty easily.” Kelso's left pinky was back to its normal, fleshy state.  
  
Hyde frogged him in the left arm as hard as he could—twice. Then he put Kelso in a headlock and knuckled him in the face.   
  
“Ow! My eye!”  
  
“You're lucky I don't completely kick your ass,” Hyde said and let him go. “I told you you'd turn one of us into a freakin' statue.”   
  
Kelso sighed. “Yeah. I kinda knew that would happen, too.”   
  
Hyde frogged him again.


	15. Sticks and Stones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

  CHAPTER 15  
 **STICKS AND STONES**

Hyde looked down the forest road. The mirror, and the Dwarf who had it, were a day ahead of them.   
  
He wasn't thrilled being in another forest. Too many trees and none of them smokable, but at least this place was different than the dark, reeking mess he went through in the Troll Kingdom. No mist. No beanstalks. Just a regular-looking forest with regular forest-y smells. Something that could be found in Wisconsin.   
  
Another difference: it had a wide, leafy road to follow. If the six of them ever caught up to the mirror, he wasn't going through it right away. Not until he helped Fez get back to his normal, human, boob-loving self—or until Hyde was sure nothing could be done to get him back to that. Worst thing about this whole deal, besides Jackie, was how easy magic seemed to fuck with people here. Like human nature wasn't bad enough.   
  
He peered through the trees. Forman, Donna, and Jackie had gone off to some creek to get water. The journey in front of them wasn't going to be pleasant, especially if Jackie was going to act like—well, Jackie. He took a few deep breaths to hook into his Zen, and the smell of the bacon wafted into his nose. There was nothing magic about that. Kelso had insisted on cooking breakfast because he felt guilty.   
  
Magic. Hyde didn't need it. He'd fallen under a spell once, and he was never going to make that mistake again. Jackie, though, was still stuck in some private fantasy-world. Her burns were full of resentment, like he'd somehow tricked her into believing something that wasn't true. But she must have bewitched herself 'cause he sure as hell never pretended to be anything other than who he was.   
  
He didn't have a white horse. He didn't have guarantees. He had nothing because he was nothing, and that was all he'd ever promised. No expectations meant no disappointment. That was how he lived life before her and how he lived life now, what he'd tried over and over again to get through her head. But every time he popped her delusional bubble, she conjured up a new one. It made him damn glad her spell on him was bro—  
  
The scent of burnt bacon pulled him back to the forest.   
  
“Kelso!” Hyde shouted. “You're destroying the grub!” He ran back to the camp. The pan he'd swiped sat on the cooking fire he'd started, but Kelso was turned away from both, staring glumly at golden Fez.   
Hyde pulled his jacket sleeve over his hand for protection and took the pan off the fire. The bacon he'd swiped was extra crispy, all right. Just like his mom used to make. He dumped it onto the rolls he'd stolen and began making sandwiches.   
  
“I feel like shit,” Kelso said. “Look at him.”   
  
Hyde glanced past Kelso's shoulder. Fez's golden body was standing in a crude wagon Kelso and Forman had built last night. They'd strapped Fez's feet to the bottom of it and tied a rope around his neck for easy transport.  
  
“One good thing came out of this, man,” Hyde said. “You don't have to pick up his shit anymore.”  
  
“But I've killed him!”   
  
“Maybe not. Who the hell knows in this place?”   
  
Kelso's face brightened. “Really? You're not just saying that?”   
  
“It's a theory. Let's test it out.” Hyde grabbed a twig off the ground and waved it in front of Fez's stiff, golden face. “Fetch!” he said and tossed the twig into the woods.   
  
“Come on, Fez! Get the stick!” Kelso said, but Fez didn't move.  
  
Hyde started to laugh.   
  
Kelso frowned. “That's not funny.”   
  
“It'll get funnier if we keep doing it.” Hyde picked up another twig.   
  
“Why are you two still sitting here?” Donna had returned to the camp with Forman and Jackie, and Donna was holding a metal pitcher full of water. “I told you to get packed up.”  
  
“We're making sandwiches,” Hyde said, but he'd finished doing the actual making. He wrapped them in some rags stolen off an old woman's sewing basket. Then he handed a sandwich to each of his friends. He'd gotten to do a lot of stealing in Rivertown. It felt nice.  
  
“The mirror is getting farther away every second,” Jackie said. “If we lose the trail, now, we'll never get home.”  
  
Donna and Forman packed up the camp while Kelso ate his sandwich. But Hyde went toward the leaf-covered path. Moments later, Jackie darted up beside him.   
  
“Hey,” she said.   
  
“Yeah?” He didn't look at her.   
  
“So... how are you handling all this?”   
  
“Better than Kelso.”   
  
“God, he is such a doofus,” she said, “but at least it was only Fez he turned into gold... Eric would've been okay, too.”  
  
“Uh-huh.” Hyde quickened his pace.  
  
“I really want to find that mirror,” she said after a nice quiet two seconds.   
  
“I thought you wanted to find a prince.”   
  
“I'll settle for someone rich back home, royalty or not.”   
  
He walked even faster. “Okay.”  
  
“Listen,” she was matching him step-for-freakin'-step,“Steven, I just want to thank you for watching out for me. I thought you'd stopped caring compl—”  
  
“I haven't been watching out for you.” He kept his focus on the trees. Their trunks were relatively thin, and the forest canopy had plenty of gaps to let sunlight in.   
  
“But you rescued me from those disgusting Trolls, you got those horrible shoes away from me when I couldn't—”   
  
“Look, I wouldn't even let Edna become Troll food, okay? And I didn't want those shoes to make you more of a freak than you already are 'cause that would screw all of us—but that's as far as it goes. Soon as we're back in Point Place, we go back to what were. Nothing.”   
  
She murmured the beginning of a word. He had a shrug prepared, but Forman and the rest caught up with them before Jackie could actually say anything. That was good. Hyde was through with listening.  
  
They traveled along the path silently except for the crunch of Fez's wagon wheels on the leaves. The forest was growing darker the further they went. More trees, packed more densely together, meant less sun could get through the canopy. After a while, it was hard to tell if it was day or night. Hyde's watch said it was lunch time, though, and Kelso's body did the same. His stomach was growling, but Jackie hid behind Donna as if it were an animal.  
  
“I hate nature!” she shouted from behind Donna's back. “If it's not dirt, it's bugs. Or bears. Or getting lost!”  
  
“Jackie, relax.” Kelso took out half a sandwich from his new woolen coat—a coat Hyde had stolen off a sailor. “I'm just hungry.” He ate a bite of his sandwich, but he didn't get a chance to eat a second one.   
  
An old lady came up to them from a curve in the path. A sack of twigs was slung over her shoulder, and she spoke to Kelso with a shaky hand toward his sandwich. “I am but a poor old woman. Spare me some food.”   
  
“N'uh-uh, lady!” He pulled his sandwich away. “We only got enough for us.” He rushed past her with Fez in tow, and Jackie swiftly followed.   
  
The old lady went to Forman next. “Good sir,” she said.  
  
“I would, but how am I supposed to know you won't spend it on...” Forman made a drinking motion with his hand. Then he joined Kelso and Jackie a little further up the road.  
  
Hyde was already rummaging in his pack for a sandwich when the old lady stepped in front of Donna.  
  
“Young lady, would you spare me some food, please?”   
  
“Of course.” Donna handed her a sandwich.   
  
Hyde gave the old lady another one. He remembered what it was like to be hungry.   
  
“Thank you, young man.”   
  
“You know, if you guys wanted to waste food, you could've just given it to me,” Kelso said.   
  
The old lady didn't seem to hear him. “Since you have been kind, I have a lesson for you. Take this stick.” She pulled a twig from her sack and gave it to Donna. “Break it.”   
  
Donna snapped the twig.  
  
“And this one?” The old lady gave Hyde a twig now.   
  
He broke it in half easily.   
  
Then the old lady pulled out six other twigs and gave Hyde and Donna three each. “Put the sticks together—”   
  
“Six! The answer is six!” Kelso blurted. “What do I win?”   
  
Forman elbowed him in the ribs. “That.”  
  
“Now try to break them,” the old lady said.   
  
Hyde and Donna twisted and wrenched the twigs, but neither of them could do it.   
  
“I can't,” Donna said.  
  
“Nope,” Hyde said.   
  
The old lady laughed. “That is the lesson.”  
  
“Oh, wow. I think that was maybe worth... one sandwich?” Forman said.  
  
The old lady turned on him. “When the students are ready, the teacher appears.”   
  
“You didn't go to _our_ school,” Kelso said.  
  
The old lady turned to go, but Donna said to her, “Um, excuse me, did you happen to see a Dwarf driving a cart?”   
  
“Very early this morning,” the old lady said. “He took the main road through the forest, but you must not. You must leave the path.”   
  
She was about to leave again when Forman said, “Wait! Isn't the road the only safe thing in this forest?”   
  
“Not for you. Someone is following you. They intend to kill you.”   
  
“Just me?” Forman said.  
  
Jackie glared at him. “No, you idiot. She means all of us.”   
  
“Whoa! What is this 'intend to kill' stuff?” Kelso said. “That doesn't sound good. It sounds bad. I don't like bad.”   
  
But the old lady was gone.  
  
“So someone else is out to get us...” Hyde dropped the twigs on the ground. Whatever the lesson was, he didn't see it. “Any ideas who, Donna? Read anything in those fairy tales of yours?”  
  
Kelso gathered up the twigs and tried to break them himself.   
  
“Well, wolves play a big role, but we probably would've heard howling or something by now...” Donna looked down and tapped her chin. “Wait, there's the Huntsman. He usually shows up in these stories serving an evil stepmother or—”  
  
“Queen?” Hyde said flatly.  
  
“Yeah. Maybe this is his forest.”   
  
“Aw, man!” Kelso tossed the still-unbroken twigs behind him. “I don't wanna be hunted.”   
  
“Then we better get the hell off this road,” Hyde said.  
  
“Try to stay single file,” Donna said. “If this is the Huntsman's forest, any little thing that gets pushed out of place will let him know where we are.”  
  
Forman stepped in front of her. “And what exactly does the Huntsman do to people he finds in his forest?”   
  
“Don't ask.”   
  
They let Hyde take the lead through the woods, not that he knew where he was going, but he'd try to follow the road's course as best he could. He hoped Donna was wrong about this Huntsman business. Being hunted didn't exactly fit his idea of a good time, either.


	16. A Hundred Seconds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity. 
> 
> **Diclaimer 3:** “The Grand Illusion” (C) 1977 Styx and A &M Records 
> 
> **Author's Note:** Jackie's limited perspective in this chapter in no way reflects the author's (mine).

  CHAPTER 16  
 **A HUNDRED SECONDS**

It had been three days since Jackie went through that mirror. Three days without makeup and a shower (although she did dip her hair in the river). Three days of running from monsters in her high heels, and three days of magic. But not the good kind of magic that made rich princes fall in love with pretty maidens. No, this magic was Trolls and addictive shoes and scary forests.  
  
When she was a little girl, she actually liked going to the forest—okay, it was actually a park, but she was so small it looked like a forest to her. Her parents used to take her there on the weekends. They had picnics and played games like catch or Red Light/Green Light. This was back before her father was a councilman and her mom turned into a lush—had gotten her real estate license.   
  
Then one breezy Saturday, Jackie asked if they could all play hide-and-seek. It had been a while. She was about seven, and her father was in the thick of his campaign, her mother was just about to take Wisconsin's  _ R _ __ eal Estate License _ _ state exam. But they agreed to play and covered their eyes, counting to one hundred.  
  
Jackie ran off and discovered a great hiding spot between a tree and a big rock. It really was great because it blocked her completely from view. She waited there, peeked over the rock now and again, and felt so proud of herself because—this time—her parents didn't find her right away. In fact, they didn't find her at all.   
  
Her heart pumped furiously in her tiny body. She called out for them, _ Daddy? Mommy!  _ but got no answer, so she decided to find them instead. Only all the trees were the same, and she couldn't remember the way back to their picnic spot.   
  
She wandered around the park and cried while the birds mocked her. They chirped from high above, and she ordered them to shut up, but the stupid things didn't listen. Finally, after the sky had grown a bit darker and her voice had become hoarse, she found her parents. They were chatting with a well-dressed couple by their picnic spot, laughing and smiling. They still didn't notice her, so Jackie ran to her father in tears and clutched his legs.  
  
“Kitten! Where did you ramble off to?” He picked her up and kissed her wetly on the cheek.  
  
“Oh, my.” Her mom's laughter trilled like birdsong. “I'd forgotten all about you.” Then she took Jackie from her father's arms. “Well, we can't let that happen again.”  
  
But here she was, in the middle of the biggest, scariest forest ever. It seemed endless, but Steven was leading them through it the best he could. She was directly behind him. Donna had insisted they walk single file in case some hunter came after them, and Jackie wanted to be in the best position. Michael was too involved with Fez. Eric was a wimp, and Donna had to protect  _ him. _ So Jackie stuck close to Steven. Whatever his reasons, he wouldn't let anything happen to her. A noble heart still beat underneath his practiced indifference—no matter how much he denied it.  
  
The forest was quite dark now, but according to Steven's watch, it was early evening. The prospect of sleeping in this place frightened her. Strange, throaty echoes were drifting through the branches, and Jackie's mind conjured image after unpleasant image to go along with them.  
  
“Hey, is it just me,” Eric said behind her, “or can you hear moaning?”   
  
“I hear moaning,” Jackie said.   
  
“You think there's some sort of forest orgy happening near by?” Michael said.  
  
“No,” Donna said. “I think it's more magic.”   
  
Steven's shoulders raised slightly. “Great.” And then he moved faster through the trees.  
  
Finally, after another half hour, the trees thinned out. Jackie could see the sky again. The setting sun washed everything in pink, and she felt better for all of three seconds—until a musky smell made her gag. And then she felt sick.   
  
Animals,  _ dead  _ animals, dangled from blood-streaked traps. The traps themselves were dangling from a tree.   
  
“ _ Eww! _ ” Jackie cowered behind Steven's back and controlled every impulse to hug his arm. He kept them moving, though, and they passed by a sign wedged between the branches of the same tree:  
  
  


ALL TRESSPASSERS  
WILL BE   
CONSIDERED POACHERS

  
And they passed by another:

ALL POACHERS  
WILL BE SHOT  
By Order Of  
THE HUNTSMAN

  
“Hah! I was right,” Donna said. “Professor Bultmann would so give me an 'A' for that.”   
  
“Don't you think,” Eric said, “it would've been better for you to be _wrong_ this time?”   
  
Jackie wholeheartedly agreed with him.   
  
They walked away from the dead rabbits and other icky animals, and walked... and walked. Hours of walking. Her feet were killing her, but she refused to go barefoot. Her toes would not be stepping on any animal poo. The forest had grown darker than even before. The trees were black shadows against gray. Jackie hooked her finger into one of Steven's belt loops so she wouldn't lose him in the dark. She would have preferred to hold his hand, for a little warmth, a little comfort, but he had none to give.   
  
Another hour later, or maybe it was five minutes (Jackie had no concept of time anymore), she'd had all the walking and silence she could tolerate.   
  
“We can't walk all night!” she said.  
  
“Yeah, we can,” Steven said.  
  
“ _Shh!_ ” Donna said. “Do you hear something? To the left, I think.”   
  
Steven shifted direction. Up ahead, the trees were no longer just shadows. Light was shining through their branches, and he shoved away a big one that seemed to be blocking his view. A moment later, he glanced behind him with a finger to his lips. Why did he want them to be quiet? Jackie stepped beside him to find out, and what she discovered didn't please her.  
  
It didn't please her at all.   
  
“ _Eww_ ,” she said for the second time tonight, but this time it was a whisper. “Gypsies.”  
  
Donna moved next to her. “Jackie, that's so ignorant. There's nothing wrong with gypsies.”  
  
Jackie rolled her eyes. Of course Donna saw nothing wrong with a bunch of dirty, long-haired men and women making camp in the middle of a magic forest. Their dirty horses whinnied; their dirty lanterns glowed through the leaves; their dirty, tacky clothes offended her sense of fashion.   
  
“What do we do?” Michael said.   
  
“Join us, of course.”  
  
A Gypsy had said it, and he was holding an axe. Jackie looked around her. They were surrounded by men with axes. One man repeatedly tossed a knife into the air and caught it—an unspoken warning.  
  
“Do you think they're poachers?” Eric whispered.   
  
Another dozen or so Gypsies watched suspiciously as Jackie, Steven, and the others entered their camp. A fire was lit at the middle of it. Caravans were scattered throughout— _was that where the Gypsies slept?_ —and six birdcages hung from a wooden frame by one of them.   
  
“I think we should sit down.” Donna pointed to the fire. Gypsies sat by it on logs. They were eating something, but Jackie couldn't tell what.   
  
She, Steven, and all of them crammed together onto one log. Any tighter fit, and she would've been sitting in Steven's lap.   
  
“You okay, boy? Michael said and patted Fez as if he weren't gold. Then someone started to play a fiddle.   
  
“For tonight, what we have is yours,” a Gypsy woman said, and she handed them each a steaming bowl with a cooked animal in it. Steven, Michael, and Eric all received hedgehog while Jackie and Donna, thankfully, had gotten rabbit.   
  
Jackie was hungry. She'd eaten rabbit risotto before, so she took a tiny, hesitant bite of what was in her bowl. It tasted a little bland but otherwise edible. Steven dug into his hedgehog without any problem. Michael, on the other hand, gagged on his first bite and put down his bowl. Not surprising. He didn't like sticking his tongue in things that made him uncomfortable.  
  
The fiddle music kicked up, and several Gypsies began to dance around the fire. The other Gypsies in the camp all clapped along except for a little boy, who looked about ten-years-old. He was staring in Jackie's direction with wide, scared eyes. But what did he have to be scared of? That there were strangers in his camp? If her beauty wasn't enough to calm him down... Steven waved his fork in hello, and the boy's face relaxed a little.   
  
A simple gesture. Steven had always been good at those.   
  
Jackie finished her rabbit and clapped politely when the music had ended, but Michael applauded with vigor and whistled—which brought the fiddler straight to him.  
  
“Now it's your turn, stranger,” he said and raised his fiddle to Michael's face.   
  
Michael laughed demurely. “Oh, no. I don't play violin.”   
  
“Then sing us a song,” the fiddler said.  
  
“What should I sing?” Michael looked at Eric, and Eric shrugged.  
  
“Anything,” Steven hissed. “Don't piss 'em off.”  
  
“But I can't think of anything!” Michael whispered back.  
  
A tall, thick-armed Gypsy held a knife some feet away, but its blade pointed at Michael's eyes. “Is our hospitality not worth a song?” he said.   
  
“But I'm—I'm blanking out!” Michael looked at Eric again, who sighed this time.   
  
“Okay.” Eric stood up and cleared his throat. “ _Welcome to the grand illusion_ ,” he sang. “ _Come on in and see what's happenin'._ ”   
  
His voice shook, and he kept clearing his throat. But by the time he hit the fifth line, he seemed to have forgotten where he was. He pantomimed the lyrics, and his voice began to sound decent.  
  
“ _Someday soon we'll stop to ponder what on Earth's this spell we're under. We made the grade, and still we wonder who the hell we are._ ”   
  
He had finished. Donna and Michael applauded enthusiastically, Jackie clapped halfheartedly, and Steven didn't clap at all—just like the Gypsies. But it didn't matter. Eric's song appeared to have satisfied them because the Gypsies went back to eating their own dinner.   
  
Jackie's butt hurt from sitting on the log. She needed to get some air, some space. No one was standing by the birdcages, so she went over to them.   
  
“Set us free,” said a high-pitched voice.   
  
She examined one of the cages more closely. Colorful wings were flapping inside it.  
  
“Set us free,” a bird chirped. “We're just little victims.”   
  
“Little victims,” another bird said.   
  
“Magic pigeons?” Steven's voice, and Jackie flinched. His sudden presence startled her more than the talking birds.   
  
“They're not pigeons,” she said. “They're...” But she didn't know what they were. “What's going to happen to you?” she said to the birds.   
  
“They will break our wings and sell us to rich people,” a bird said.   
  
“We won't be, will we? That's awful,” another bird said.   
  
Jackie agreed. That was awful.  
  
Steven's breath tickled the back of her ear. “'Daddy' would've gotten you one for Christmas.”   
  
“Some people eat us,” the first bird said. “They believe they'll absorb our magic.”  
  
“They don't, do they? That's terrible,” the second bird said.   
  
“I have six little babies waiting to be fed. They're starving to death without me,” another bird said.  
  
Jackie couldn't bear it. She reached for the birdcage, and the tops of Steven's fingers grazed her palm. Apparently he had the same idea as she did. They were almost touching the latch of the birdcage together.  
  
A bang near the fire made them both withdraw their hands. A caravan door had swung open, and an old woman was leaning her hip against it. She had an air of royalty about her, and the Gypsies' immediate silence at her appearance only furthered that impression.   
  
“Set up a table,” the old woman said. She was staring at Michael. Did she want to make love to him on a table in front of everyone?  
  
Barely a minute later, the Gypsies had put out a table, covered it with a an elaborately embroidered cloth, and brought two chairs over.   
  
“My Queen,” the Gypsies said. They bowed low and backed away. The old woman—the Gypsy Queen—sat down on one of the chairs. She set down a bowl of what looked like punch. Then she pulled out a deck of tarot cards from the folds of her dress.  
  
“You,” she said to Michael. She gestured to the chair across from her, but Michael looked at her dumbly.   
  
“I sang for you.” Eric dragged him over to the chair and shoved him down.   
  
Jackie took a seat on the log next to Fez. Steven stood behind her—okay, behind the log—and clutched his belt buckle. It was a defensive, watchful stance. She could tell by the slight tilt of his head.  
  
The Gypsy Queen shuffled the cards and laid a few on the table. “I see great wealth coming to you,” she said.  
  
Michael pumped his fist. “All right!”   
  
“And passing straight through.”   
  
“Damn. That was the magic turd I swallowed.” He rubbed his hands together. “Okay, what about the future?”  
  
The Queen put out another card. “I find The Fool.”   
  
“Okay, what are those cards?” Michael said after she dealt a few more.   
  
“The Fool's friend, The Oaf.” There was amusement in her voice. “He is joined by The Buffoon and the Village Idiot.”  
  
“Wha—? You gypped me!”  
  
The Gypsy Queen scooped up the cards and gave Michael a scornful look, a look Jackie herself had given him many times. Then the Queen signaled to Eric and said, “I will read the boy.”  
  
“Uh, I'm actually a man,” he said.  
  
“Forman, just be glad she didn't call you a girl,” Steven said,  
  
To Jackie's surprise, Eric went to the table without hesitation. Even more surprising was that Donna joined him. The Gypsy Queen reshuffled the cards and dealt a few.   
  
Jackie listened to Eric's reading for a few seconds, something about a great destiny and _blah, blah, blah,_ but then she got bored and turned her attention to Fez. A Gypsy man was petting his frozen doggy body.  
  
“Is he real gold?” the Gypsy said. She recognized the glint in his eye. She had the same one whenever she passed a jewelry store.   
  
“Oh, no, no,” Jackie said. “Gold paint. The original coloring was... too foreign.”   
  
The Gypsy seemed disappointed. His shoulders slumped, and he walked away.  
  
In a moment, Donna was standing in front of her. She wasn't smiling. “Your turn, tiny loser.”   
  
“I don't think so,” Jackie said, but the Gypsy Queen glared at her in such a way that it compelled her to the table.   
  
Jackie crossed her arms. She'd sit in the chair, but this stuff was nonsense. What could a bowl of fruit punch tell her about the future?  
  
The Gypsy Queen didn't deal any cards. “You are full of anger,” she said. Jackie huffed, but the Queen's gaze held her. “You conceal much about yourself.”  
  
“Not lately. I've been without makeup for three days.”   
  
The Gypsy Queen took out a pair of scissors. “I need a lock of your hair.”  
  
“Oh, no, you don't. Only Juan Carlo, my stylist, will ever cut my—”  
  
Withered hands grasped a fistful of Jackie's beautiful, precious—but lately limp—hair and snipped it off. The Queen sprinkled the strands into the fruit punch and studied them.  
  
“You look ahead for gifts, but you will not find your present there.”   
  
“Oh, yeah?” Jackie glanced behind her. Steven was still standing by the log, watching. “Are you saying I'm getting a present? Because I haven't gotten a gift in forever—except for the lollipop Donna ga—”   
  
“You have never forgiven your parents for abandoning you,” the Gypsy Queen said.   
  
Jackie's breath caught in her throat. What the hell did this old witch know?  
  
“Fortunes are stupid, and the cookies don't even taste good.” Jackie stood from the chair. As she did so, Michael and Eric shoved Steven into it. They pushed on his shoulders to keep him there.  
  
Eric grinned. “He wants to be read.”  
  
“Yeah,” Michael said. “Read him!”  
  
“Get off me, you dillholes!” Steven tried to get up, but Michael and Eric pressed all their weight onto him. Jackie nearly felt sorry for him.   
  
The Gypsy Queen grabbed Steven's hand and stared at his palm. He sighed gruffly but didn't fight her.   
  
“I see death,” the Queen said.   
  
“Thanks.”   
  
“A young girl dead, torn to pieces.” She was looking straight at him now, as if she could see through his sunglasses—and his Zen.  
  
“Whatever.”   
  
“I see a fire being built.” A gleeful, cruel smile spread across the Gypsy Queen's lips. “You are going to be burnt on it.”   
  
“Burn!” Kelso shouted, and Eric frogged him.  
  
Steven tried to yank his hand free, but the Gypsy Queen held him there. Her smile had turned into a sneer.  
  
“You are not what you seem.”   
  
He didn't react. Jackie searched his face but saw nothing behind his glasses.   
  
“You are are _wolf!_ ” the old witch said.   
  
Eric and Michael looked at each other in confusion, but Steven broke out in laughter. Almost hysterical laughter, and Jackie heard the relief in it.  
  
“Lady, you got the wrong guy,” he said once he'd calmed down. “It's your grandkid who's the wolf.”   
  
That boy, the one Steven had waved at during dinner, stood up by the fire. The Gypsy Queen had finally let go of Steven's hand. Her smile was much softer now, and she slapped Steven's arm affectionately.  
  
“You must stay with us tonight,” she said. “Friends must stay together in the dangerous forest.”  
  
So they were all “friends” now? Jackie didn't believe it for a minute. Steven stood up, and a couple of Gypsy men thumped him on the back as if he were a Gypsy, too. She had no idea how he'd figured out all that stuff about the boy or what it even meant. Was the kid like the guy who'd tried to eat her mother?   
  
“Steven,” she said, “how did y—” But he was no longer around. He'd disappeared somewhere, maybe to fool around with one of the Gypsy women... Jackie snorted. Yeah, he'd become real “friendly” once one of those women lifted up her skirt. She looked for him by the dwindling fire, but all she found were Eric and Donna stretched on opposite sides of a log. Michael was lying against a different log and hugged Fez to him like a stuffed animal.   
  
Jackie didn't feel safe sleeping here, especially without knowing where Steven was, but she was exhausted. Wordlessly, she curled up behind the log Michael was sleeping on.   
  
“Set us free!”   
  
“Set us free!”   
  
“Please, set us free!”   
  
The magic birds. She was facing the birdcages. Jackie sighed. She'd never get any sleep with that noise... or the guilt it was stirring in her. She crawled to the next log over—and found Steven.   
  
He was sitting on the other side of the fire with the Gypsy boy. Steven didn't have his sunglasses on, and he even smiled once or twice while the boy spoke to him. It was the most unguarded she'd seen him in a long time.   
  
And it had nothing to do with her.   
  
Jackie lay back down. The insult, the absolute insult that a Gypsy boy wolf-kid—one that Steven didn't even know—could reach him like that... _Damn._ Jackie shut her eyes. Was she that pathetic, her ego so fragile that the vagaries of Steven's emotion still meant something to her? Or did she simply need a distraction?   
  
Three days of running. Three days of chasing and being chased. Three days, and who knew how many more? Jackie pulled her jacket tightly around herself. The ground beneath her was cold, and the sounds above her were unfamiliar, and soon it all faded away. No longer was she in the forest but on Donna's bed. Warm hands eased around her back, and warm eyes were smiling at her. She slid her fingers into Steven's soft hair. Then he spoke to her just as softly. _Wanna hear something sick? I actually missed y...  
  
_ She wanted to remember the words, but they turned into numbers. _One-hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight..._ He was counting. She was running. _Eighty-six, eighty-five..._ A hundred seconds of running. Nothing lay ahead of her, and she couldn't go back. _Seventy-eight-seventy-seven..._ His hands tried to hold her. His eyes held her heart. _Forty-four, forty-three..._ He wanted her to be still, _twenty-six..._ but she slipped away from him. _Ten, nine, eight..._ _Jackie, I do want to be with you... seven, six..._ She begged him to stop counting, _five..._ to run after her, _four, three..._ but these were memories, they were dreams, _two..._ and they would not move him. _One._


	17. Like a River, Make It Flow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 3:** “Heigh-Ho” (C) 1997 Disney

CHAPTER 17  
**LIKE A RIVER, MAKE IT FLOW**

Jackie felt the hand tapping her shoulder first, then the one clamped over her mouth. She jerked her eyes open and, for a second, thought she hadn't awoken. Steven was crouching above her. His palm smelled like earth and dried leaves.   
  
The sun had just risen. The Gypsies were all still asleep. Steven mimed zipping his lips, as if she didn't get what the hand on her face meant, but she nodded. When he released her, the withdrawal of his fingers left an annoying tingle on her mouth. She pressed her lips together to get rid of it.   
  
Donna and the others were packing up on the other side of the camp, and Steven started on his way over there before Jackie even stood. Once she was on her feet, she smoothed her jacket and groomed her hair the best she could. One never knew who one would meet, even in a forest.   
  
“Set us free,” a tiny voice chirped. “Set us free.”  
  
She peered over at the birdcages dangling from the wooden frame. The magic birds flapped so frantically it made their cages swing back and forth.  
  
“Please, set us free.”  
  
Jackie glanced behind her. Steven was helping Michael carry Fez while Donna and Eric carried the wagon. Smart idea. They didn't want the wagon wheels to wake the Gypsies, and it gave her some time to...  
  
She slung her knapsack onto her shoulders and went to the nearest birdcage. The magic birds had wings as iridescent as opals, and she understood why people would want to own them. They were beautiful. But Jackie was beautiful, too, and the thought of someone breaking her legs to keep her, to own her—just as these birds' wings would be broken—made her stomach ache. No one would ever own Jackie Burkhart. And no one should own these birds.   
  
She opened two cages at a time, and birds soared to their freedom.  
  
“Jackie,” Donna whispered.   
  
Jackie ignored her and kept opening cages. It was a huge risk, but all beauty deserved to fly free.  
  
She'd freed the last of the magic birds. She took a step toward her friends, but then she spotted another cage. It was hooked over the door of the Gypsy Queen's caravan.  
  
“Jackie, no,” Eric said. He and Donna were gesturing wildly for her to come to them, but Jackie dismissed them with a wave. Just one more bird, and she could leave with a clear conscience.   
  
She reached for the cage above the caravan door, but she was too short even with her high heels. Several copper pots lay nearby. She turned two over, stood on them, and managed to flip the latch with her fingertips. The magic bird flew out, and its forceful escape slammed the cage into the caravan.   
  
Jackie jumped off the pots and sneaked away, but the damage was done. The Gypsy Queen burst out of the caravan, and the other Gypsies began to wake, too.   
  
“Go! Go!” Eric shouted.  
  
Michael grabbed Fez and dashed out of the camp with him.   
  
“After them!” Jackie heard the Gypsy Queen say. “Quick!”   
  
Steven, Donna, and Eric had all rushed ahead. Jackie tried to catch up, but she didn't quite know where they'd gone. She ran out of the camp on her own—almost on her own. A group of Gypsies was following close behind.   
  
She raced through the forest and scanned the trees for any signs of blonde hair or flashes of gold dog. But her stupid feet started to hurt, and her calves tensed up, and she had to slow down. Where the hell were they? Had they found a hiding place?   
  
The Gypsies' shouts rang through the air. They'd be on her in less than a minute. Jackie's heart beat painfully fast. She had to speed up, but her left foot wouldn't move. Something had snared it. She felt pressure on her ankle. Then the pressure turned into a downward pull, and she slipped off a dirt ledge—  
  
And landed safely between Steven and Donna.  
  
Jackie was in a copse of trees underneath the dirt ledge. Branches scratched her cheeks and hands. Gnats fluttered around her eyelashes. And four hands clapped over her mouth before she could voice any objections.   
  
“They can't have gotten away!” a Gypsy shouted from above. “Search around for them. They're hiding somewhere.”   
  
Jackie's breath caught in her throat as hands removed themselves from her face. Michael ducked down behind a shrub, Eric backed into the dirt ledge, but Jackie watched silently as a pack of Gypsies tracked close, dangerously close, towards the copse. And then:  
  
“Come back! Come back!” It was the Gypsy Queen's voice. “No one is safe! Come back!”   
  
The Gypsies retreated back into the woods, but Jackie didn't relax until they'd completely disappeared.  
  
Steven signaled for everyone to shut up. Then he pulled himself over the ledge and was gone.   
  
A long minute passed before he dropped back down. “I don't get it,” he said. “Why did the old lady call off the hunt?”  
  
“Maybe we just got lucky.” Michael put Fez back into the wagon and rolled him out of the trees.   
  
“Yeah, I don't think so,” Donna said.  
  
“Who cares?” Jackie brushed dirt off her jacket. “The sooner we get out of this forest, the better.”  
  
“Hey,” Michael said, “can one of you guys help me get Fez up on the path?”  
  
“Can't we just bury him?” Eric said. “We can always come back later, after we get the mirror.”  
  
“No way! I'm not leaving him.”   
  
Jackie agreed with Michael. Of course they couldn't leave Fez here. That would mean they had to come back to the forest, and she had no plans on ever returning to this forest. She picked up the far end of Fez's wagon and helped Michael drag it toward the path. If she had her way, she'd never see another forest again. 

***

Hyde frogged Kelso as hard as he could. “You wanna take the lead, you big baby, go right ahead.”  
  
Kelso's gripes had started the moment they left their little hideout:  _ I'm a cop. I should be in charge. I never would've gotten us stuck eating hedgehog. If I had my gun...  _ Hyde was sick of hearing them. So he stepped back and let Officer Moron be the leader—  
  
Which lasted all of twenty minutes   
  
“Little help?” Kelso had rolled Fez straight into a muddy ditch.   
  
Hyde smirked. “Come on,  _ leader.  _ Lead your way out of this one.”  
  
“Don't be an ass.” Donna smacked Hyde's shoulder on her way to the ditch.   
  
Forman followed her. He was gawking at the back of her head.   
  
“What?” Hyde said, but then he spotted it: two inches of orange roots above blonde hair. “Uh, Donna...”   
  
She was prying Fez's wagon wheel from a tangle of roots and didn't turn around. “Yeah?”  
  
“Oh, dude!” Kelso pointed at Donna's hair. “You look like a clown.”   
  
“What the hell are you talking about?”   
  
“Your ugly red roots are showing,” Jackie said.   
  
“Shut up. I re-dyed my hair a few days before we went through the mirror.”   
  
Eric rubbed a few strands of Donna's hair between his fingers. “I think it's grown.”   
  
“Grown?” Donna yanked her hair from Forman's hand. It was definitely longer, but she didn't seem convinced.   
  
Hyde pointed to puddle near the ditch. “Check it out for yourself, man.”   
  
She did. “Oh, my God, it  _ is  _ longer.” And it was even longer than it had been a minute ago. Orange roots now covered half her scalp. “That's so wei—”  
  
“NO!” Jackie's ear-piercing scream cut through the forest. She was holding up two handfuls of long brown hair.  
  
“They've been Gypsy-burned!” Kelso was laughing. “That old Gypsy lady totally burned you for freeing those birds.”  
  
Hyde nodded. “Burn-for-burn. Looks like you've been cursed, man.” He flicked a few strands of Jackie's hair.   
  
And then he stumbled backwards. Jackie had thrown herself against him. She was crying, blubbering into his jacket, and her arms were around his neck.   
  
“Jackie...” His arms dropped limply to his sides. He didn't want to touch her, even to shove her away.   
  
“That w-w-witch cut some of my h-hair and put it into her f-f-fruit punch!” she said between sniffles.   
  
Donna's eyes grew wide. “She did the same to me! Hyde, I think you're right. That bitch cursed us!”   
  
“Great.” He jabbed his thumb in Jackie's direction. “Would someone get this off me?”  
  
But Jackie released him herself. Despite the noise of her sobs, she must have heard him. Hyde scratched the back of his neck. It was tingling where her hands had skimmed the skin.   
  
“What am I supposed to do?” Jackie clutched at her still-growing hair.   
  
Kelso shrugged. “Braid it?”  
  
Oddly enough, Donna took Kelso's advice. She braided her hair as they walked on. But Jackie just cried, and Hyde found himself cringing at almost every whimper. He couldn't freakin' block it out. Facing down a group of murderous Trolls hadn't made her shed one damn tear. But cursed hair? She was a total mess.  
  
A thunderstorm kicked up by the time night fell. Jackie's hair was so long now it dragged on the ground. But Donna's height had given her an advantage; her hair didn't go past her ankles. It really was a wicked burn, though, and the rain dumping on them made it even sweeter. Only drawback: the storm burned Hyde along with them. He didn't mind being wet, but the rain fogged up his shades. He had to take them off.  
  
Forman was gathering Donna's hair the best he could, but he accidentally yanked her back every few minutes. Around the fifth or sixth jerk, she accused him of doing it on purpose. That was a good possibility. They'd been even crankier with each other since the old lady had read their fortunes.   
  
Hyde shook his head slightly, which caused rainwater to drip into his eyes.  _ Whatever. _ The old lady had told him a bunch of crap, too, and it meant nothing. If Forman and Donna were gonna let some mumbo-jumbo stand between 'em, they deserved to be apart.  
  
After an hour of hiking in the storm, Hyde was soaked to the skin and shivering. Lightning sparked up the forest bright as day. Thunder boomed through the trees, and he kind of dug it. Reminded him of a Keith Moon drum solo.   
  
“OW!” Jackie's hair had gotten caught in the branches of a tree. Donna was too busy with her own hair to help, and Forman's arms were full of it. Kelso had Fez to deal with—   
  
There was nothing for it. Hyde helped Jackie untangle her hair from the tree.  
  
“This is crazy!” she shouted at him. “We can't keep going like this. We've got to stop somewhere!”  
  
“Where would you like us to stop, Chewbacca?” He was as fed up as she was, and his Zen had bailed on him. “Where the hell are we gonna find shelter in the middle of a forest?”  
  
“There!” Forman pointed over his shoulder. “Look!”  
  
Lightning flashed, and Hyde saw it camouflaged among the trees: a small house with a thatched roof. Convenient. Or, maybe, magic—but he didn't care.  
  
They hauled ass to the house. Hyde didn't bother to knock and kicked down the door.   
  
“Anybody home?” Donna said.  
  
No one answered. The place had definitely been abandoned. Troll graffiti marked the walls _.  _ Junk covered the floor. Real classy.   
  
Seven pewter mugs sat in a row on a dusty cabinet. Seven weird lanterns hung in a row on hooks—most of the junk was in sevens. The first floor was hopeless...   
  
Hyde ran for the stairs. If there were any beds in this place, he wanted first pick. But Kelso clearly had the same idea. He tried to push Hyde out of the way, and Hyde kicked him in the shin.   
  
Jackie's tactics had their uses.  
  
Hyde made it to the upper level first, but his victory was short-lived. Kelso banged into his back—and again when Forman banged into Kelso's.   
  
“Move,” Kelso said. “I wanna see.”   
  
“Okay.” Hyde moved his elbow into Kelso's ribs, which elicited a grunt. Then he glanced around the dusty room. It had seven beds. Seven tiny beds that maybe only Jackie could fit on.  
  
“Hey,” Forman squeezed past Kelso and Hyde to the front, “are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?” He began to sing. “ _ Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it's home from work we go... _ ”   
  
“You may be onto something, Forman.”   
  
Hyde and Kelso whistled the rest of the tune together as Donna came upstairs.   
  
“Oh, wow... Wow!” she said upon seeing the beds. “This is totally Snow White's cottage!”  
  
“The Seven Dwarves really slept here... together?” Kelso's eyes glazed over. He was fantasizing, and nothing pretty by the look on his face. “There must have been some massive Doc-on-Grumpy-on-Happy-on-Sleepy-on-Bashful-on-Sneezy-on-Dopey action going on here.”  
  
Donna shook her head in disgust. “ _ Yuck!  _ Kelso!”   
  
“That's just—that's just wrong,” Forman said.   
  
“Not a porno I'd go see,” Hyde said.   
  
Kelso sighed. “I miss Fez.”  
  
“Yeah,” Hyde said. “Too bad he's a statue. He'd probably like seeing his grandma's house.” He froze. Had he just said that? Man, he really needed a circle. He was starting to believe this fairy tale crap.   
  
Everyone went back downstairs. They propped up the front door, shoved a hutch against it to keep it closed. Anyone skulking around outside would have to find a different place to crash. Then they spent the next thirty minutes clearing the floor of junk. By the end of it, Hyde was still soaked, but he'd quit shivering. Jackie had lit the logs in the fireplace using a rusty tinderbox.   
  
“Bad idea.” Hyde removed a lantern from the wall and put his sopped jacket on the hook. “Fire makes smoke. Smoke leaves chimney. Smoke tells Gypsies or the Huntsman—or whoever—we're here.”  
  
“I don't care.” Jackie held a chunk of her hair in front of the fire. “I'm not going to sleep with wet hair.”  
  
“Jackie, let me know if you set your hair on fire,” Kelso said. He was sitting in a chair by the fireplace. Fez stood frozen and gold beside him. “I've always wanted to shout, 'Burn!' at someone who was actually on fire.”   
  
Donna stretched out on an orange rug made of her own hair, and Kelso laid into her, too. Hyde, though, kept his burns to himself. He didn't see the humor anymore. Donna and Jackie's hair hadn't stopped growing. They were screwed if they couldn't find something to cut it with.  
  
“So, Donna...” Kelso leered at her, “do the curtains match the drapes? Or is the curse only on top?”   
  
“Kelso?” Forman said.   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Shut up.”   
  
“Eric, you don't have to defend me,” Donna said.  
  
“I'm not defending you,” Forman said. He was sitting nowhere near her. “I just want Kelso to shut up.”  
  
“Yeah, okay. Do you have a cold? You're all snuffly.” Donna shifted her voice into a childlike pitch. “Aw, did the drizzle outside make Mommy's baby sick?”  
  
“It was a storm, Donna, okay? And, no. I think I'm allergic to your hair.”   
  
“So you're allergic to me now?”   
  
“I think he is,” Kelso said. So, Donna... do they?”   
  
“I'm not answering that.”   
  
“Fine. Jackie, same question.”   
  
“Michael, would change the subject already?”  
  
“But I'm curious! You got at least ten pounds of hair on your head. What about below the belt?”  
  
Hyde was too tired for this crap. “Change the subject, moron, or you'll know what it's like to have ten pounds of fist in your face.”   
  
“Fine!” Kelso pet Fez's golden back. “I bet Snow White and the Prince had lots of sex. She had to, right? Or else she wouldn't have squeezed out Fez's mom.”  
  
“You know, I've always wondered about that,” Forman said. “What happened to Snow White after she and the Prince got married? Did she get all bitchy and fat?”   
  
“She became, like, this awesome queen,” Donna said.  
  
“But that wasn't the best part,” Jackie said with a dreamy smile. “People threw parties in her honor and loved her because she was so pretty, and everyone lived happily ever after.”   
  
Hyde snorted. “That sure lasted long. The Evil Queen knocked off Snow White's kids and turned her grandkid into a mutt. Real happy.”   
  
Jackie's smile vanished, and Hyde looked away from her. Another fantasy ruined.

***

Jackie tended her hair by the fire. She wouldn't rest until every last strand was dry. Michael and Eric, however, wanted beds. So they went upstairs to sleep on the Dwarves' tiny ones.  
  
Donna had stayed downstairs. And for the next hour, she rambled on about those beds and the Dwarves' mining lamps and their devotion to Snow White, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her hair was still growing. Jackie couldn't believe Snow White had lived here with a bunch of Dwarves. This wasn't the home of a princess. It was more the home of someone like Maria, the Burkharts' maid.   
  
When Donna finally drifted off to sleep, Jackie's clothes had dried, but her hair hadn't yet. Not even after three hours of holding it up to the flames. If she held her hair any closer, Michael would get his chance to burn her while she actually burned.   
  
Jackie sighed. The storm appeared to be over, at least. Rain no longer pounded on the roof, but she heard a soft tapping on the floor beside her. Steven was sitting in the chair by the fireplace with his arms crossed. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but the bounce of his leg told her he hadn't fallen asleep yet. He was singing Zeppelin songs inside his head. A habit she'd learned about years ago, during that first vulnerable night Jackie had spent on his cot.   
  
Steven hadn't wanted her to stay alone in an empty house, but she didn't know if staying with him was the best idea either. By the time she'd changed into her flannel pajamas, he was already in his cot.   
  
“Come on in,” Steven said. He was lying on side and patting the lumpy mattress.   
  
“I'm really, really tired,” Jackie said and slipped underneath his knit blanket. “You're not going to keep me up with a whole bunch of begging and whining, are you?”  
  
“First, I don't whine. Second, begging's for losers who can't get it any other way.” He hugged Jackie to him and spoke gently into her ear. “And no, I won't try anything.” His chin was resting on the curve of her shoulder. It felt comforting, and she closed her eyes.   
  
“This is nice,” he said after a while. His breath was soft on her cheek, and she believed that, unlike Michael, he'd actually be true to his word.  
  
Until she felt a part of his body bouncing against her butt.   
  
“What are you doing?” she said.   
  
“Huh?”   
  
“You said you wouldn't try anything.”   
  
“Yeah, and?”   
  
“You're bumping my ass with your—”   
  
“Knee. It's my... crap.” The bouncing stopped. “I wasn't making a move on you. I was...” he spoke it into her hair.  
  
“Didn't quite catch that, Steven.”   
  
“Look, my cot's not exactly the five-hundred thread count, queen-sized bed you're used to. I wanna make sure you can fall asleep here.”   
  
“So you're bumping my ass?”  
  
“No, I...” He sighed, and it warmed the back of her neck. “I kind of listen to Zeppelin to keep myself awake.”   
  
“But your stereo's off.”   
  
“Not in my head.”   
  
“Oh, Steven...” she pressed his hand over her heart, “you're sacrificing sleep for me.”   
  
“Yeah, I'm a saint.”   
  
“Of course, it's doesn't really count since I won't be able to sleep with your knee bu—  
  
“I'll rein in the leg, okay? Hell, I'll sleep on the floor if you need more space.” His arm began to withdraw, but she held it firmly against her body.   
  
“No. No, Steven. Your room may not be the Ritz, but it has you—which raises it from one star to three. And with me here? It shoots up to four.”  
  
“Why not five?” he said.  
  
“Eric's upstairs.”   
  
“Good point.”   
  
Jackie heard the smile in his voice, the one he saved for when they were alone. He slid his free arm underneath the pillow and pulled himself closer to her. Their bodies had no space between them, the warmth of him soaked into her skin and deeper, and she fell asleep to the soft rhythm of his breathing...  
  
And now he wouldn't touch her unless he absolutely had to. Her outburst earlier when she'd grabbed him and cried, she couldn't help herself. Being cursed was just too much. Some things warranted comfort, but Steven had none to give—no.  _ To give  _ _ her. _ He seemed perfectly able to comfort Gypsy wolf-boys.  
  
Jackie gave up on drying her hair by the fire. It would probably take all night, and she'd probably fall asleep in the midst of it, and then she'd wake up to Michael shouting, “Burn!” She lay down on her side, facing Steven's chair. His boot was still tapping on the floor. Why didn't he want to sleep? She followed his line of sight. His head was angled toward the door... He was keeping watch. What did he think was lurking outside?  
  
Great. She'd never get to sleep now. The vibration of Steven's bouncing leg wasn't enough to soothe her. She needed a distraction.   
  
“What did you say to that boy in the Gypsy camp?” Jackie said.  
  
Steven's leg stopped moving, but his arms remained crossed. “Nothing.”   
  
“I saw you sitting with him.”   
  
“So? He's a misfit among misfits. My kind of kid.”  
  
“But how did you know he was that old witch's grandson?”  
  
Steven shifted his weight in the chair. “Man, Jackie, you only notice things if they have to do with you? The kid looked just like her, for starters, and she was too old to be his mom.”  
  
“No,” Jackie drew out the word, “I was too busy trying not to scream to notice. Was his being a wolf obvious, too?”  
  
“His eyes kept flashing orange—not exactly human. Oh, and he had a furry tail. Slipped out the back of his pants, and I spotted it before he could tuck the thing in again.” He shrugged. “Easy guess from there.”  
  
“Huh. So why  _ did  _ you talk to him?”   
  
Steven uncrossed his arms and faced her. “What the hell do you care?”   
  
“Because you looked happy, and—” Jackie clapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to say that out loud. Exhaustion. It was exhaustion.“Whatever,” she said and rolled onto her other side. If her hair hadn't been so damp, she would've hidden under it.  
  
“Happiness is just a lie the government feeds the masses to keep them placated and docile.”  
  
“Oh!” She slammed the floor with the flat of her hand, but the cushion of her hair muffled it. “That is such bullshit, Steven.”  
  
“No, happiness is bullshit. You'll be happier once you quit believing in it.”   
  
“And you'll be happier if—”   
  
“You shut your piehole and let me get some sleep,” he said.  
  
“Fine.” She bunched up some of her hair and used it as a pillow. “I'll never talk to you again.”   
  
“And Hyde lived happily ever after.”   
  
Jackie grunted inwardly. She'd heard the smirk in his voice, the one he saved for when he was being a jerk. It made her want to kick him—and curse herself for believing he'd ever be anything more than a miserable ass to her. Since she was already cursed, she just had to kick him. But she was too tired, and her eyes were drifting closed, and she decided to save it for the morning. 


	18. Snared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 18  
**SNARED**

Jackie awoke peacefully on the softest blanket ever to grace her creamy,  porcelain skin. It was warm and familiar... and smelled like hair.   
  
She sat up slowly and put a hand to her head.   
  
“Oh, my God.”   
  
Her beautiful brown locks were completely enmeshed with Donna's awful red, and together their hair covered everything in Snow White's cottage from the floor to the stairs—and probably even Michael and Eric sleeping in the Dwarves' bedroom.   
  
“OH, MY GOD!”   
  
Steven fell out of his chair. Her scream had woken him, and his legs were caught in a net of hair. Served him right. But Jackie was too panicked to tell him so. He got to his knees and spat out a frizzy clump of strands.   
  
“It's everywhere!” she said. “What am I going to do?”  
  
“Forman!” Steven shouted, “Kelso—get up!” He pulled the hair from his legs but still couldn't stand. A thick tangle had ensnared his boots.   
  
“Oh, my God!” Donna was awake and clutching at the red carpet her hair had become. “What are we going to do?”   
  
“Man, those Gypsies know how to burn!” Michael said from the top of the hair-covered stairs. Eric was standing behind him.  
  
“Kelso, shut up and start picking up!” Steven said.   
  
Eric sneezed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I'll go look for something to— _ ah-choo! _ —cut it with.”   
  
After a few swear-filled yanks, Steven finally disentangled himself. “We gotta get outta here.” He shoved the hutch into the door and pushed both outside.   
  
Jackie and Donna gathered as much hair as they could, but they both stumbled on their way out of the cottage.  
  
“Watch where you're stepping, you lumberjack!” Jackie said.  
  
“Hey! I'm just as cursed as you, midg—”   
  
Steven placed his hand on Donna's arm. “As much as I love a girlfight,” he said, “do it later when you're not covered in fur. It's hotter that way.”   
  
Jackie and Donna put as much distance between them as their hair would allow. The ground outside was damp from last night's rain, and the morning sun lit the forest. But the brightness of their surroundings only deepened Jackie's bleak mood.   
  
Eric joined them moments later with an armful of rusty farm tools. He was followed by Cousin Itt, formerly known as Michael Kelso. He'd turned into a walking mound of hair.   
  
“Help! I can't breathe!” he said and flailed around in an attempt to free himself. The hair covering his face slipped to his shoulders. He managed to free his arms—and then the rest of him. “Oh, man! That was less fun than I thought it'd be—oh! I gotta get Fez.” He ran back into the cottage.  
  
“I think I'm going to enjoy this.” Steven was holding a scythe over Jackie's head.   
  
“You are  _ not _ touching my hair with that thing,” she said.  
  
Wordlessly, he tossed the scythe to the ground. Then he picked up a small axe.   
  
“Come on, come on...” Eric was already hacking away at Donna's hair with huge scissors, but he didn't seem to be accomplishing anything.   
  
“No fair. I wanna cut something.” Michael had returned outside with Fez's wagon. He placed it underneath an apple tree, on a dry patch of dirt.   
  
“Should've thought of that...” Steven grasped Jackie's hair far from her head, “before you turned doggy-Fez into doggy-gold.” He brought the axe down. When it became clear the axe was useless, he switched to a handsaw.  
  
Eric had given up on the scissors and tried slicing Donna's hair with a knife. “Why... won't... you... cut?” He threw down the knife. “Nothing cuts through this. I need a lightsaber.”   
  
“Forman's right.” Steven dropped the handsaw, and Jackie glanced down. The saw no longer had any teeth.   
  
“Oh, you better find something,” she said. “What if it never stops growing? I'm going to die of long hair!” A curtain of hair was draped over her arm, and she buried her face in it. This was all so wrong. Hair used to be her best friend. Why did the things she loved always turn on her?   
  
Someone was rubbing her back. She looked up. It was Donna.   
  
“You're not gonna die, all right?” Donna said. “Because I refuse to drag your rotten corpse around for the rest of my life. You're still attached to me, remember?”  
  
Jackie buried her face once more and began to cry.  
  
“Don't despair.”   
  
Jackie looked up again, this time through tear-blurred eyes. One of the magic birds she'd freed was perched on a tree branch.  
  
“Because you saved my life,” chirped its little voice, “I will tell you how to cut your hair.”   
  
She wiped her eyes. “Really?”   
  
“Deep in the forest there is a Woodsman with a magic axe that, when swung, never fails to cut whatever it hits, and it will cut your hair and cure the curse.”   
  
Steven put down the sheers he'd picked up. “Far out.”  
  
“Thank God,” Jackie and Donna said at the same time.   
  
Michael waved. “I wanna swing it! Guys, please let me do it!”  
  
_ Ah-choo!   
  
_ That was Eric's contribution, and the bird flew away, as if his sneeze had frightened it.  
  
“Okay,” Michael said, “if we're gonna spend another ten hours in this forest, then I need food.” He gazed at the tree's branches. “Yeah.... yeah, those apples look good!” He reached for a bright red one.  
  
“Kelso, don't!” Donna shouted.   
  
“What? I'm hungry.” Michael ripped the apple off the tree and brought it to his mouth.   
  
Donna gestured at Michael frantically. “Hyde, stop him!”  
  
Steven tackled him. They both fell to the ground, and the apple slipped from Michael's hand.  
  
“Damn, Donna!” Michael stood and patted dirt off his clothes. “Being cursed has really made you bitchy.”  
  
“Think about where we are, dillhole,” Donna said.  
  
Michael looked around him and shrugged.  
  
“Snow White's cottage,” she said, as if it were obvious.  
  
“So?”  
  
“That tree probably grew from the seeds of the apple that poisoned her.”   
  
Steven was on his feet now, and he kicked the apple into some bushes.   
  
“ _ Eww... _ ” Michael rubbed his hands on Eric's coat. “This place is freakin' bonkers!”   
  
Eric batted him away. “Come on, man. We gotta quit fooling around if we want to catch up with the mirror.”   
  
“Fine,” Michael said. “Let me grab Fez.”   
  
Jackie leaned her head back and stared at the sky. The mirror. It had to be halfway to the Seventh Kingdom by now. These forests and Huntsmen and curses had distracted her from the most important task of all: getting home. That Woodsman had better be nice. Otherwise, she was going to strangle him with her hair. 

***

Hyde did his best to lead the Hair Bear Bunch through the woods, but they'd covered less ground in two hours than a snail. Their hair seemed to wanna wrap itself around every tree they passed, and Hyde's Zen slipped each time they broke a branch to get free. They were leaving signs of themselves all over the place, man. The Huntsman would be on them in no time.   
  
“Be careful, Donna,” Forman said. He was still acting as her servant boy, gathering her hair, and he'd broken the majority of the branches. “It's— _ ah-choo! _ —tripping you.”  
  
“No kidding, dink.”   
  
Forman sniffled. “That's a nice girl. You know, I didn't curse you.”  
  
They eventually reached a leaf-covered clearing, but Hyde couldn't take their slug's pace anymore. “Move your asses! The Huntsman's onto us by now.”   
  
“Hello?” Jackie said. “We can't __ move any faster!”  
  
He sighed. “Then we're gonna die.”   
  
“Steven! Don't say th—”   
  
“All right, all right! What're we going to do?” Forman said.  
  
Kelso gasped and raised his hand. “I know! I'll hide you.”   
  
“And then what, genius?” Hyde said.   
  
“I'll, uh, I'll lead that hunter-guy—yeah! I'll lead him in a big circle and then come back for you later.”   
  
Donna shook her head as if she hadn't heard him correctly. “Excuse me, what?”  
  
“It's called 'diversionary tactics'. I got an 'A' in it at the academy. That's how I got my badge. Let's start with Fez.”   
  
Kelso went to the middle of the clearing and started to dig. Hyde saw no other choice but to help him.   
  
“Hyde?” Forman was gawking at him. “Since when do you listen to Kelso?”   
  
“Since we got no better ideas, man. Dig.”   
  
“Okay...” Forman knelt down and shoveled a clod of dirt with his fingers, “but I have a bad feeling about this.”  
  
An hour later, Hyde was laying shoulder-to-shoulder with Donna, Jackie, and Forman beneath a thick shroud of fallen branches and dried leaves. Kelso had actually done a decent job.  
  
“Everyone all right?” Kelso said above them.   
  
Forman pushed his fingers through their leafy cover and wiggled them.   
  
“Good. Don't breathe 'til I get back—and take care of Fez.”   
  
Kelso's footsteps crunched on the ground then faded away. Hyde peered through twigs, but his field of view was limited. Fez was buried in a separate spot, indiscernible from the rest of the leaf-littered clearing. Lucky dog. He got to miss out on all the “fun”.

***

Their leafy cover camouflaged them well enough, but Jackie's heart was beating so forcefully she feared it would bring the Huntsman right to them. What scared her more, though, was the thought of Michael out there all alone. No matter what training he'd gotten from the police academy, he was still a doofus. If anything happened to him...   
  
She didn't want to think about it.   
  
Eric breathed beside her. The ragged sound of it annoyed her, and Steven seemed barely to be breathing at all. She wanted to reach across Donna and take his hand, but he'd just squirm out of her grip. He truly didn't love her anymore. And if they survived this moment, she'd use every mental trick she had to get to the same place. She couldn't afford to love him either. The price was too high.  
  
Someone tapped her shoulder, and she bit back a gasp. It was Steven. His sunglasses were off, and he indicated with his eyes for her to look above them.  
  
A pair of leather boots treaded softly about their hiding place. They were worn by a thick-legged man with russet hair. He stopped, flicked his eyes left then right, and pulled a long knife from his boot. This had to be the Huntsman. There was no blood on the knife, which gave Jackie some hope he hadn't found Michael yet—but the crossbow slung over his shoulder took it away.  
  
The Huntsman moved forward again but paused right above Eric. Jackie shut her eyes. He knew they were there. He knew it, and he was going to—  
  
Put the knife back into his boot and turn around. Jackie had opened her eyes just enough to see it. He was walking away now, toward the edge of the clearing. The danger would soon be over.   
  
Eric must have thought so, too, because he took in a sharp breath.   
  
_ Ah-choo!  
  
_ The noise of Eric's sneeze blasted through the forest, causing leaves fall into Jackie's blouse—and the Huntsman to stop.   
  
Steven broke cover first. “Get up! Go!” he shouted and raced to the path.  
  
Eric followed, but Jackie and Donna had a hard enough time even standing. Stupid Eric and his stupid sneeze! Their hair was snarled with twigs and weighed more than Jackie herself.   
  
“Come on!” Eric said.  
  
Jackie ignored the pain in her scalp and surged ahead. Donna kept pace with her, and they ran together with their hair trailing behind like a heavy kite. The Huntsman was nowhere to be seen, but Steven and Eric were already in the woods. Jackie desperately wanted to reach them. She dug her feet into the ground, willed her legs to pump faster. She and Donna were almost at the trees now. Jackie could see Eric through the branches.  
  
Then her head jerked back. She was flying backward through the air, and blue sky turned black as she slammed into the ground.   
  
The breath shot out of her chest, but she recovered quickly. Donna was groaning beside her. What the hell had just happened? The last she remembered, her head was being yanked by something...  
  
Their hair. Jackie wrenched her body around to see what had snared them. Nothing. Some distance away, a pair of leather boots stood on a brown-and-red rug. A crossbow was pointed at her face. The Huntsman had caught them.   
  
He grasped Jackie and Donna by their scalps and hauled them along the ground. His strength was incredible, and the pain of being pulled by her hair forced tears into Jackie's eyes.   
  
“OW!” Donna shouted. She thrashed her legs and twisted her body, but the Huntsman's grip was too solid.   
  
Jackie's scalp had gone partially numb, but now she had a pounding headache. “Let go of me, you Troll!” she said and dug her nails into his hand. When he didn't react, she screamed her most ear-shattering scream. If anything, Steven and Eric would hear it.   
  
After what felt like a mile, the Huntsman pulled Jackie and Donna up by their collars.   
  
They'd stopped beside a giant oak tree draped in ivy. He pressed his forehead to the bark, and the ivy retreated into the branches like wriggling snakes. Then a door in the trunk opened by itself. Jackie had no intention of going inside there. It smelled like dead animal.   
  
The Huntsman's intentions, though, were clear. He brought them toward the door, and Jackie gave his shin the kick she'd intended for Steven. The Huntsman didn't even flinch. He heaved them inside the tree, and Jackie screamed one last time.


	19. The Two Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 19  
 **THE TWO BROTHERS**

Hyde bolted full-speed through the forest, but Eric used the trees for cover. Running out in the open did not seem like a good idea. The Huntsman had a crossbow, and not the kind that shot fake lasers like Chewbacca from  _ Star Wars _ . His could actually kill them—  
  
If the fast pace didn't kill Eric first.   
  
His breath burned inside his chest. Donna and Jackie's screams had faded away, but he wasn't going to give up. He'd be like Luke Skywalker rescuing Princess Leia. He'd run as hard and as far as legs would go, and when they gave out, he'd...  
  
Stop. The air shot in and out of his lungs uncontrollably. It made him dizzy, and he couldn't even shout to Hyde that he'd stopped behind a tree. Who the hell was he kidding? Luke Skywalker? No, Eric was a dumbass, a dumbass who couldn't hold in a sneeze to save his life—literally. He leaned back against the tree, and watched his chest rise and sink with his raspy breath. He'd lost Donna, and Kelso's dead body was probably slumped over a rock somewhere.   
  
“Forman!” Hyde shouted through the woods. “Move your ass!”   
  
“I... can't!” Eric gasped it more than spoke. He shut his eyes and tried to catch his breath.   
  
Something crunched in the leaves behind him. An animal? A Troll? Whatever it was, it was close.  
  
Screw catching his breath. He sprang forward and pumped his arms like a Rock 'em Sock 'em robot. The vibrations of the leaf-cruncher's steps bounced through his sneakers.  _ Damn! _ It was keeping up, it was reaching him, it was tapping on his freakin' shoulder...!  
  
Eric let out a scream as high pitched as Jackie's.  
  
“Why are we running?” Kelso said by his ear. “Are we in a race?”   
  
Eric screamed again. Then he stopped and pulled Kelso into a hug. “Kelso! Man, I thought you were toast!”   
  
Kelso patted him on the back. “Nope. The Point Place P.D. produces some of the finest cops Wisconsin has to offer. What happened?”  
  
“The Huntsman,” Eric said after he let Kelso go. “He's got Donna, man! And Jackie.”   
  
“And it's all Forman's fault.” Hyde had found them, and he was scowling. “You just had to sneeze, didn't you?”  
  
“I know, okay? Donna's going to...” Eric looked at his feet. “It's my fault.”   
  
“Hey, Eric, can you feel bad later? We have to find our chicks,” Kelso said.   
  
They started on their way through the forest again—not that any of them knew where they were going. They were walking side-by-side, Kelso whistling “Heigh-Ho” to himself, Hyde still with a scowl. Eric tried to think of pleasant things, like pancakes, but the image of Donna's panicked face kept ramming his brain.   
  
The forest path cut through a grove of trees. Birds were singing cheerfully from the branches. Too cheerfully. How could anything be singing when Donna was in such danger?   
  
“I can't lose her,” Eric said. “She's the only girl I've ever loved, my true love! My Donna. My... Donna! Where are you, Donna? DON—”   
  
Hyde frogged him. “Would you quit it with that lovey-dovey crap, already?” His scowl grew deeper. “You two didn't seem to be getting along too well before the Huntsman nabbed her. True love? Whatever.”   
  
“Hey, just because we're fighting doesn't mean I don't love her.”   
  
“Man...” Hyde chuckled, “you really think you're gonna end up together? You two have so much shit between you,” he waved a hand in front of his nose, “it keeps stinking up the place.”   
  
“Shut up, Hyde.” Eric was scowling now. “You're starting to piss me off.”  
  
“No, he's right,” Kelso said. “I mean, you did ditch her before your wedding.”  
  
“Yeah, and then you ditched her for some elephants,” Hyde said.  
  
Kelso nodded. “Oh, and she ditched you for my brother—burn, by the way.”  
  
“Okay...” Eric raised his fists, “do you wanna fight me? 'Cause I'll take you both.”  
  
Hyde crossed his arms. “Forman, you couldn't take a marshmallow. Alls I'm saying is: you and Donna talk about nada. You fuck up, she fucks up—you both ignore it. If you two do get back together...” he mimed a small explosion with his hands, “Death Star.”  
  
“Okay, you know what?” Eric shoved a finger in Hyde's smug face. “I'm not taking advice from someone who shuts his feelings on and off like a—like a washing machine.”   
  
Hyde and Kelso both stared at him. “'Washing machine'?” they said.   
  
Eric gestured at them dismissively. “Alarm clock... whatever.” Then he walked a circle around Hyde, eying him up and down like a suspect. “Are you even happy Kelso's alive? No, you came skipping back, _ tra-la-la, _ to tell him I screwed up.” Hyde began to speak, but Eric cut him off. “You're on about me and Donna? Well, what about you and  _ Jackie? _ Most of the time, you act like she doesn't exist—and when you do talk to her, you're an asshole. Yeah, I said it: Steven Hyde... is an asshole.”  
  
“Oh, direct burn!” Kelso said.  
  
“You really wanna go there, Forman?” Hyde said flatly.   
  
“Yeah,” Eric said. “I really do.” He pulled a leaf off a tree and twirled it between his fingers. “Even if Donna and I don't get back together, I would never treat her like she's nothing. I'd still—you know why you think love is crap? Because you  _ don't  _ love.”   
  
“Oh...” Kelso whispered, then... “BURN! I can't believe Fez is missing all these great burns. Eric, you're on fire!”   
  
Eric shook his head and dropped the leaf. His own words sank heavily in his stomach like he'd swallowed a bowling ball, but Hyde's impassive expression didn't change.   
  
“Hyde, I'm sor—”   
  
Hyde grabbed him by the coat. But instead of pounding his face, Hyde shushed him. The dry rattle of wood being chopped was echoing through the trees.  
  
“Hear that?” Hyde said.  
  
Eric nodded, and the three of them hurried down the road. Beyond the grove was a glade—and a broad-shouldered man clothed in gray. He stood by a mound of split wood and a tree stump, which had a chunk of log on it. Most importantly, however: the man held an axe, silver and gleaming in the sunlight.   
  
Eric's heart hammered in his chest, and he felt it in his neck and fingers. They'd found a woodsman.  
  
With one strike of the axe, the wood on the stump split in two. The halves flew out, and one of them nearly bumped the Woodsman's hat off a wood block. Strangely, the hat was upside down. Would've been far less likely to fall if it sat right-side up.   
  
The Woodsman pulled another log piece from a cart behind him, and Eric stepped forward.  
  
“Halt!” the Woodsman said. Eric halted. “Who approaches?”   
  
“I'm really sorry to bother you, Mr. Woodsman,” Eric said, “but have you seen a really hot redhead tangled up with a short, bitchy brunette?”  
  
“I haven't seen anything.” The Woodsman put the hunk of wood onto the stump. “I'm blind.”  
  
He raised the axe high above his head, and the log piece split as easily as the first.  
  
Kelso's squinted. “A blind Woodsman? But how do you—I mean, come on! You're blind!”   
  
“Have you ever seen a tree move?” The Woodsman was speaking in their general direction, but he didn't make eye contact with any of them.   
  
Eric glanced at his hat again. Now it made sense why it was upside down. The Woodsman couldn't see it rocking in the gusts produced by the blows of his axe.   
  
“Forman, quit flirting with the guy's hat.” Hyde dragged both Eric and Kelso backward a step. “Check out his axe, man.”   
  
“You think?” Eric said. The axe did seem rather—sharp. He stepped forward again and cleared his throat. “Excuse me. Mr. Woodsman, uh—sir, does that axe happen to be, by any minuscule chance, the magic axe that cuts through anything?”  
  
“Could be,” the Woodsman said.   
  
“How much do you want for it?” Eric said.  
  
Kelso nodded. “Yeah, how much?”   
  
The Woodsman held his axe up as if he were presenting a prize. “Oh, you can have my magic axe... if you can guess my name.” He pointed to another tree stump with a gnarled piece of wood attached to it. “But one of your friends must kneel by this block. And if you haven't found my name out by the time I've chopped all these logs into firewood, I will have his head.”   
  
Kelso rubbed his neck, and Eric swallowed, but Hyde stood back with his hands clutching his belt buckle.  
  
“I don't—what the hell did your parents do to you?” Eric said. “Why can' t you just say, 'That'll be a hundred dollars'? Why does it always have to be, 'No, not unless you crap out a magic brick,' or—”   
  
“'Pluck the hairs out of that ogre's giant boob'?” Kelso said.   
  
The Woodsman lifted the axe higher. “You want the axe or don't you?”  
  
Kelso rubbed his neck again. “Let's just keep looking for Jackie and Donna,” he said and scurried past Eric toward the thick of the forest.  
  
Eric would have joined him, but the Woodsman's challenge seemed so familiar. He ran through all the fairy tales his mom used to read him as a kid. “Oh!” he said and dashed after Kelso. “I know this. I got this.” He patted Kelso's arm excitedly. “It's gonna be all right.” A huge grin spread on his face, and he brought Kelso back to the Woodsman. “We accept!”   
  
Kelso tugged on Eric's coat sleeve. “I don't accept!”   
  
“No, it's fine,” Eric said, but Kelso started to run again. “It's okay!” Eric pulled him back. “I swear, it's okay.”   
  
Kelso whimpered.  
  
“Very well,” the Woodsman said. “Lay your head on the block while your friend guesses.”   
  
“No way! My head's too pretty to be chopped off.” Kelso covered his neck protectively.   
  
“Well, I can't do it,” Eric said. “I'm the one guessing.”   
  
“I'll do it.”   
  
Eric and Kelso both stared at Hyde, who'd been silent up until that moment.  
  
“See?” Eric whacked Kelso's shoulder. “Hyde trusts me.”   
  
“Uh... no. I just figure getting decapitated's gotta be more fun than listening to you two whine for the next hour.”   
  
Hyde gave Eric a brief glance then knelt by the chopping block. Those sunglasses of his hid any trace of fear, but was he was really that brave—or did he just not care?   
  
The Woodsman thrust the gnarled piece of wood over Hyde's shoulders, which pinned his head to the chopping block.  
  
“Feels cozy,” Hyde said.  
  
The Woodsman smiled. “Just to make you secure.”  
  
“Don't worry, Hyde. I know this.” Eric clapped his hands once. “Okay, Mr. I-Don't-Have-To-Look-But-I-Can-Chop-Wood, your name is Rumpelstiltskin.”   
  
“No!” The Woodsman chopped another piece of wood with a sickening crack. Hyde flinched, but that was all.   
  
“I said 'Rumpelstiltskin'.” Eric had raised his voice. Maybe the guy was deaf, too.   
  
“That's not his name, Forman,” Hyde said.   
  
The Woodsman put another log onto the stump. “Guess again.”   
  
“Oh. Well... Rumpelstiltskin Junior? Rumpelstiltskin the Fourth!”  
  
“No,” the Woodsman said. He split the log, and chips of wood flew into Hyde's face.  
  
“Eric, you're bombing,” Kelso said.  
  
Eric scratched the back of his neck. He wasn't going to let his orphan boy—or Donna—down. “Does it have a 'stiltskin in it?”

***

“Please, let us go,” Donna said. “We're not involved in this.”   
  
“Where is the dog?”   
  
The Huntsman's voice was calm and quiet. Donna's body trembled violently in contrast—or was it Jackie's? Their shoulders were pressed together; their cursed hair lay underneath them. They were being held inside a hollowed-out oak tree. A knife-covered table stood by the wall. Animal traps littered the blood-stained floor.   
  
“I think he's dead,” Jackie said.   
  
“I think you're lying...” the Huntsman's brow furrowed, “but you're not lying. Is he hurt? You were dragging something on wheels, yet the tracks were too deep for the weight of just a dog.” He paused for a moment. Then his eyes widened, and he yanked Jackie to her feet. “What about the others? Will they come looking for you?”  
  
“They don't care about me,” Jackie said.  
  
The Huntsman frowned. “There is truth in what you speak. What about her?”   
  
“Or her,” Jackie said.   
  
“So they will come.” The Huntsman was smiling now. “Do they have any weapons?”  
  
Jackie nodded. “Yes.”  
  
“No weapons.”   
  
The Huntsman was speaking to Jackie as if she were a little child, and Donna wanted wanted to kick his ass. But all she did was clench her fists and keep silent. He'd killed those Gypsies for being in his forest. _They will not trouble you again,_ he'd said when he asked about the cursed hair. He'd murdered two dozen people without remorse.   
  
Donna was definitely shaking. If their friends did find them, what could they do against a man like that?


	20. Running Out the Clock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 20  
 **RUNNING OUT THE CLOCK**

Eric paced back and forth between Hyde on the chopping block and the stump where the Woodsman was splitting logs. The mound of cut wood had grown into a large heap. One cart was completely empty, and the other didn't have far to go.   
  
“Darth,” Eric said, “as in Darth Vader? Han? Princess Leia?”   
  
Hyde scowled. “'Princess Leia'?”   
  
“Cold!” The Woodsman chopped another log.   
  
Kelso gasped and looked away. He was crouching silently in the dirt. He'd tried to help with the guessing earlier (“Is it Kelso?”), but in response the Woodsman had raised the axe above Hyde's head. If anyone but Eric guessed again, the Woodsman warned, the game—and Hyde's life—were forfeit.  
  
Eric stammered. “Nugent?”  _Chop!_ “Clapton? Hendrix? Styx?”   
  
“Styx?” Hyde said. “Man, why don't you just say freakin' 'ABBA'.”   
  
“ABBA?”   
  
Another bad guess, and another piece of split wood that tumbled onto the heap.   
  
“Colder,” the Woodsman said. “Way off.”   
  
“Well, come on!” Eric said. He was getting twitchy; he could feel it. His eyes were probably bugging out, too. “Look, look, look—just give me a clue.”   
  
“Yeah, give him a clue!” Kelso said.   
  
Eric glanced over at Hyde. His sunglasses had started to slip down his nose from sweat. He'd been pinned to that chopping block for too long.  
  
“Just a little clue,” Eric said. “I mean, what kind of fun could it be just to kill him?”  
  
“Quite a lot of fun, actually,” the Woodsman said. “In fact, you could say that is the reason for my existence.” And, with a wide swing, he cleaved another log in two.

***

The Huntsman roped Donna and Jackie's wrists and pulled them both up a winding staircase. Their hair weighed heavily behind them, and it was so long now that Donna couldn't see the ends of it. They went up stair-after-stair, too many stairs. But finally, way after her legs should have buckled, they came to a circular room.  
  
Sunlight streamed in through a window cut in the bark. Metal chains were draped along the wall, and the floor was smeared with old blood. Donna caught Jackie's eye, but Jackie quickly turned away, as if she didn't want Donna to see how afraid she was.   
  
“Sit.” The Huntsman lowered them to the floor and removed the rope from their wrists. “I was born here in this forest,” he said casually. His crossbow swung at his side, and he pressed it to his hip.   
  
Donna peered through the window. They were higher than most of the treetops around them, and green hills rose far in the distance. The forest was immense, big enough to fit a thousand Mount Humps. Eric could search forever and never find her.   
  
“When I first saw the Queen,” the Huntsman continued, “I was still a forester. She came to my village. She stopped her hunting party to water the horses. Then she called me forward. She took off her bodice, and hanging over her breasts was this.” He picked up his crossbow and gazed at it. Donna wanted to rip the thing from his hands and beat him with it.  
  
“The Queen said, 'When this crossbow is fired, the bolt will not stop until it hits the heart of a living being. It can't miss.' So I said, 'What must I do to win this magic crossbow?' and she said 'Just close your eyes, fire wherever your wish, and it'll be yours.'   
  
“So I did.” His gaze was far away now, somewhere beyond the forest. “The bolt left the bow like gossamer. It sped a mile through the trees then killed a child who was playing there. I remember the Queen's face as I pulled the bolt from my son's heart. She said, 'You will be my Huntsman.'”   
  
He leaned his hand on the wall by Donna's head. The heat of his skin warmed her cheek, but she'd expected his body to be as cold as his heart.  
  
“So you understand,” he said, smiling, “the hunt is my purpose and only pleasure. I have no interest in mercy.”

***

The Woodsman chopped another piece of wood. The second cart had only a few logs remaining, and Eric had even less names left in his mind.  
  
“Hey, man,” Hyde said, “how do we know you're not lying about your name?” His sunglasses had fallen off. They were lying beside his head on the chopping block.   
  
“Yeah!” Kelso stood up from the dirt and walked over to Eric. “He could've guessed it already.”   
  
“You haven't guessed my name, not by a long way,” the Woodsman said. “My name is in my hat.”   
  
Eric, Kelso, and Hyde all looked at each other—and then at the hat resting on the wood block. Eric sidled toward it as quietly as he could.   
  
The Woodsman lifted his axe. “I may be blind, but my hearing is excellent.” The shining blade came threateningly close to Eric's throat. Then the Woodsman swung the axe above Hyde's neck. “Move any closer, and I chop your friend's head off.”  
  
“You're a freakin' sicko, aren't you?” Eric said. “You've done this before.”  
  
“Hundreds of times.” The Woodsman sounded proud of it.  
  
“So how many times have people guessed right?” Kelso said.   
  
“No one has ever guessed.”   
  
The Woodsman split another log in two. And, for the first time, Hyde turned his head away. 

***

The Huntsman loaded his crossbow and aimed it at Jackie, but she didn't seem to care. “Who is this stupid Queen?” she said.  
  
“Yeah,” Donna said. She had to get his attention, or Jackie was gonna get herself killed. “How can you serve someone who, like, made you kill your own son?”  
  
“It was my destiny to kill my son. It was her destiny to ask me.” He trained the crossbow on Donna.   
  
“You're crazy,” Jackie said. “Everybody in this whole place is crazy!”   
  
“Whatever is meant to happen will happen, no matter what  _ we  _ do. It is my destiny to kill you now.” He yanked Jackie to the opposite wall and pressed the crossbow into her chest. “Who are you?”   
  
Jackie jutted out her chin defiantly. “I'm the prettiest girl in the Ten Kingdoms!”   
  
“I will kill you.” The Huntsman's finger curled around the crossbow's trigger.  
  
Donna lunged at him and fell to the floor with a thud. Her damn hair had tripped her.   
  
“Donna!” Jackie shouted.   
  
The crossbow was inches from Donna's face now. She shut her eyes.  
  
_ Clink-a! Clink-a! Clink-a!  
  
_ That wasn't how she'd imagined death-by-crossbow would sound. She opened her eyes. A rusty bell was clinking against the wall. The Huntsman stared at it for a moment then turned his gaze back on Donna.   
  
“I have a little business to attend to,” he said. “We will continue our discussion later.”  
  
He slipped a fetter onto Donna's ankle before she even had a chance to sit up. Jackie ran for the stairs, but he wrenched her backward by the hair. Then he clamped a fetter onto her ankle, too.   
  
“If either of you try to escape while I'm gone,” he said, “those manacles will squeeze tighter and tighter and crush your ankles, and you will bleed to death.” 

***

Eric was sitting on the leafy ground, trying to think of a name. The Woodsman had only three log pieces left to split. He chopped the first of these, and Hyde let out a curse. His stone-faced bravado had completely slipped away.   
  
“Um..” Eric said, and Kelso mouthed a name to him, “The Apollo Axeman of Love?”  
  
“Forman!” Hyde's blue eyes glared at him. “Are you  _ trying  _ to get me killed?”   
  
“I told you you'd never guess.” The Woodsman placed the second log piece on the stump.   
  
A breeze sent a slight rustle through the trees, and Eric's own breathing sounded ridiculously loud in his ears. Too many distractions. He couldn't think. And the damn birds were chirping as if this were a time to celebrate.   
  
No, it was only  one __ bird. Eric jumped to his feet. One of those magic birds had landed on the Woodsman's hat. Was it going to help him?  
  
The Woodsman swung his axe, and the second log joined the heap in two pieces. “Hurry up,” he said and grabbed the last log.  
  
“Wait,” Eric said. He just needed a little more time. “Your name, it's forming in my mind.” The magic bird, though, was dawdling. How hard was it to read a name tag? “Wait a second. It's coming. It's coming.”  
  
Kelso chuckled. “That what  _ she _ said,” but Eric ignored him.   
  
The Woodsman raised his axe and split the last log. The magic bird took flight at the same time.   
  
“Too late,” the Woodsman said. “And now I will have your friend's head.”   
  
The magic bird perched on Eric's shoulder and chirped into his ear. The Woodsman brought the axe over Hyde's neck.   
  
“Just a minute,” Eric said. “Dumbass!”   
  
The Woodsman stiffened, and his eyes finally seemed to focus.   
  
Hyde and Kelso were gawking at Eric as if he'd completely lost it.   
  
But Eric grinned. “Yes, yes...” 

***

Donna tugged on the chains that connected her fetter to the wall—and cried out in pain as metal spikes bit into her skin. The fetter had constricted around her ankle. The damn bastard had told them the truth.  
  
“Donna...” Jackie touched Donna's ankle then quickly withdrew her fingers. Their tips were coated in blood. “ _ Eww! _ ” She wiped her hand on Donna's coat.   
  
“It's no use,” Donna said. “We're dead.”   
  
“Oh, I am not dying with hair like this,” Jackie said. “And you're not dying until you tell Eric you love him.”   
  
“Jackie—”  
  
“No, Donna. You've got someone who cares about you no matter how badly you treat him. That's every girl's dream.”  
  
Donna leaned her head against the wall and stared at the knotted ceiling. Anything was better than watching the staircase. “Okay, so we've got a nutbag who's going to come back any minute to kill us, and all you can think about is my ex-boyfriend?”  
  
“ _ Love, _ Donna. At least you're going to die knowing someone loves you. All I've got is someone who can't stand me—or doesn't care either way. And I...” Jackie crossed her arms and turned her face as if she didn't want to talk anymore.  
  
Donna eyed the staircase again. She had some idea what Jackie felt for Hyde, but no clue what Hyde felt for Jackie, and she really didn't give a damn about either right now. All she wanted to do was get the hell out of here.  
  
“Hi!” Jackie said a moment later.   
  
“Uh... hello?” Donna said carefully, in case Jackie had gone mad.   
  
“I wasn't talking to you.” Jackie was facing the window. Standing on the sill was one of the magic birds she'd freed.  
  
“Hey!” Donna turned to the window, heedful of the chain connecting her to the wall.   
  
“Because you helped us, we will help you again,” the magic bird said. “But this really has to be the last time. You're such a lot of trouble.”   
  
“Oh, my God, thank you,” Donna said. “Please find Eric, Hyde, and Kelso. Tell them where we are.”  
  
“And tell them to come and get us!” Jackie said.   
  
“Bye-bye!” The bird flew away.  
  
Jackie clapped and smiled. “We're going to be saved!”   
  
“Yeah...” Donna said, though she wasn't so sure. They might have just condemned their friends to the same, horrible desitny as them. But as she watched the bird fly further into the forest, she prayed Jackie was right. 

***

Hyde kept the axe on his shoulder as he walked through the woods. His back was sore from being bent in an awkward position for so long, but there was no way he was letting go of the thing that almost killed him. And Forman had given it to him without argument.  
  
“Who would've thunk it?” Kelso said. “Dumbass the Axeman.”  
  
“His sadism makes sense now.” Hyde whapped Forman on the back of the skull. “Sick bastard.”   
  
Forman didn't seem to notice the smack. He was skipping between Hyde and Kelso like a giddy school girl.   
  
“Can I carry the axe now?” Kelso said.   
  
“You're lucky I don't cut your head off with it.” Hyde shifted the axe from his right shoulder to his left. “My neck, my axe.”   
  
“You know, we could've solved that riddle much faster if Red would've been here,” Forman said.   
  
“I'm just glad you solved it at all, man.”  
  
“Hyde,” Forman quit skipping, and his voice got all sincere, “I am so, so sorry. I shouldn't have... What I said before about you being an assho—”  
  
“Forget it,” Hyde said.   
  
“No, I won't forget it. You literally put your neck on the line for Donna and Jackie. You're just a frizzy, angry teddy bear stuffed with...” Forman opened his arms wide, “no, not cotton—”  
  
“If you hug me, I  _ will _ chop you in half.”   
  
“—that's right,” Forman grinned but didn't hug him, “ _ love. _ ”   
  
Hyde grimaced. “I liked it better when you called me an asshole.” Forman tried to pat his cheek, but Hyde slapped his hand away.  
  
“Uh, guys?” Kelso said. “Do either of you know where Jackie and Big Red actually are?”   
  
_ Shit. _ Hyde looked through the trees. Except for the clearing where Fez was still buried, all directions looked the same.  
  
“Oh, God!” Forman sank to his knees. “This forest is huge! We're never going to—”  
  
“Psst! You, down there.” One of those magic birds spoke to them from a tree branch. “I know where Donna and Jackie are.”  
  
“Where?” Forman said.  
  
“They're in a tree that is not a tree, in a place that is not a place.”  
  
“Can we cut out the rhyming crap?” Hyde said. “Just take us there.”  
  
The bird flew off the branch, and they chased it through a bramble, beyond a copse of withered trees, and back onto a trail covered by dry leaves. They ran down the trail for a while. Then the bird flew toward a huge oak.  
  
“They're inside this tree,” the magic bird said. “Bye!”  
  
“Wait, inside a tree? How can they be inside a tree,” Kelso said.  
  
Forman raced ahead. ““Donna! Donna, are you up there?”   
  
Donna's head popped through a hole cut high in the oak's trunk. “Eric?”  
  
“How do we get in?” Forman shouted up to her.  
  
“There's a door,” Donna said.  
  
Hyde searched the trunk. So did Forman and Kelso. They ran around the tree and almost bumped into each other.   
  
“I don't see a door,” Kelso said. They returned to the window-side of the tree.  
  
“There's no door,” Forman said. “There's definitely no door.”  
  
Jackie's head pushed Donna's aside. “It's where the ivy is, you idiots!” The sound of her voice made Hyde breathe again. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath.  
  
Forman went back to the other side of the tree and came around again. “Nope! Nothing!”  
  
“It's gotta be hidden by freakin' magic, man,” Hyde said.  
  
“Why can't you just come down and let us in from the inside?” Forman said.  
  
“We can't. He's chained us,” Donna said. “Can't you climb up?”   
  
Hyde felt the tree. “No footholds.”  
  
“Well, get a ladder or something!” Jackie shouted.  
  
“Where the hell are we gonna get a ladder?” Hyde said.  
  
“Hey!” Forman pointed at Hyde—actually, at what rested on Hyde's shoulder. “If that's a magic axe, maybe we can chop the tree down.”   
  
“Yeah,” Hyde said, “and kill them in the process. What do you think'll happen when the tree falls?”   
  
Kelso gasped. “No! No, I got it. Jackie, Donna, how long is your hair now?”  
  
“Longer than ever!” Donna said. “It's... No! No way!”   
  
“Oh, my God...” Forman gave Kelso a high-five. “That's a great idea!”   
  
“NO!” The shout was Jackie's.   
  
Hyde allowed himself a little smile. He knew exactly what Kelso was suggesting.  
  
“I've always wanted to say this.” Forman peered up at the window and rubbed his hands together. “Princess Leia, let down your buns!”   
  
A thick drape of brown-and-orange hair fell onto his face. He looked more like Chewbacca than Luke Skywalker. And after he pulled the hair off him, he just looked like a nerd.   
  
“Forman, wait.” Hyde rummaged in his jeans pocket and found his lock pick. “Use the Force, man... of illicit activities.”   
  
Forman nodded and took the lock pick from him. Then he began to climb the hair like a gym class rope. Hyde was impressed. Climbing was the one sport Forman had always been decent at, but Jackie and Donna both cried out every time he got a little higher. They were hurting—and pissed as hell that Forman was pulling a Rapunzel act on them.  
  
“Wow, you ladies really need a shower,” Forman said when he was halfway to the window. “The dandruff you have is—well, it's like someone dusted you with powdered sugar.”   
  
“Shut up, Eric!” Donna said. “We do no—OW!”  
  
When he was two-thirds of the way up, Forman stopped climbing and glanced backward. “How's this for heroic, guys?”   
  
Hyde gave him a thumbs up.  
  
“Maybe they'll write a fairytale about  _ me _ someday. Eric Forman, Guesser of the Elusive Name, Climber of the Cursed Hair, Rescuer of—”  
  
Hyde put up a different finger.  
  
“Never mind,” Forman said. He scaled the rest of the height quickly and clambered into the window.

***

Eric had made it. His arms were shaking, but he'd made it. He pulled himself through the window and tumbled into Donna and Jackie's laps.  
  
“I'm Luke Skywalker,” he said. “I'm here to rescue you.”   
  
Jackie swatted at him, but Donna leaned down and kissed him. It had been so long... He got lost in the movement of her lips, the light touch of her fingers in his hair, and then he felt the hard metal of the chains that bound her.   
  
He hadn't rescued her yet.


	21. Strike the Match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 21  
**STRIKE THE MATCH**

Hyde grasped the ends of Jackie and Donna's hair, placed the blade of the magic axe against them, but the hair whipped out of his hand before he could make a test cut. Forman was hauling the tangled mess back through the oak tree's window. He'd done a good job climbing—that window was higher than the Water Tower—but getting Jackie and Donna out was going to take more than his scrawny ass and bravado. Forman needed help.   
  
Hyde went to the other side of the oak where the ivy grew, and he searched the bark again for any sign of a door. Dry leaves were crunching softly behind him. The sound didn't come from Kelso. He was leaning against a birch tree, so Hyde looked beyond him through the woods... _bingo._   
  
The Huntsman. He was walking down a narrow trail. That damn crossbow of his swung against his hip with every step.  
  
“Kelso,” Hyde whispered, “hide!”   
  
“Yeah, I'm Kelso. You're Hy—”  
  
No time to be nice. Hyde wrapped his arm around Kelso's face and yanked him behind a thick tree. Kelso's muffled voice spoke into Hyde's denim jacket, but he shut up once Hyde eased him around the trunk. A glimpse of the enemy was all it took.   
  
The axe felt heavy on Hyde's shoulder. He wanted to swing it at the Huntsman's head, but there was too much space between them. The bastard was standing in front of the oak. He could get a shot off easy before Hyde would ever reach him.   
  
The Huntsman pressed his fist to the bark, and the ivy receded into the upper branches.   
  
Hyde mobilized his Zen. He had to observe. Remain aloof. View the situation from a distance to come up with a workable plan...   
  
The ivy's withdrawal uncovered a door, which opened by itself. The Huntsman scooped up his crossbow and loaded a bolt before entering.   
  
_Screw Zen._ Hyde let go of Kelso and raced for the door.

***

Jackie finally understood, after years of utter bafflement, why Donna had chosen Eric over—well, over anyone else she could have dated. His fingers were incredibly nimble. He'd freed them from their leg cuffs in a matter of minutes by using a lock pick. All that nerdy model building, gluing tiny pieces of dorkdom together, must have prepared him for this.   
  
That, and Steven had obviously taught him how to use a lock pick.  
  
Jackie and Donna were climbing down the stairs now, with Eric in front of them. He pushed their hair-carpet aside on each step so they wouldn't trip, and they made it to the bottom of the oak without incident. But Jackie hoped her hair hadn't grown backward into her brain; her scalp was itching horribly.   
  
After a too-short scratch, Eric led her and Donna past the animal traps on the floor, past that disgusting table with the knives and the blood, and then the door creaked open.   
  
The Huntsman entered the oak with the crossbow in his hands.   
  
“Oh, no...” Eric whispered and edged Jackie and Donna back, but Jackie spotted Steven through the door. He was running towards it with a silver axe.  
  
The  _ magic _ axe. It had to be. He'd found it.  
  
“Steven!” Jackie shouted. She should have kept her mouth shut. The Huntsman whirled around and shoved the door against him. Only Steven's arm had made it inside.   
  
A growl rumbled at the back of Jackie's throat. Steven was cursing and waving the axe around blindly, but the Huntsman had braced the door with a thick branch. Steven couldn't pull free. All he could do was hold onto the axe, which the Huntsman was about to grab.  
  
The growl became a yell, and Jackie leapt at the Huntsman—who tossed her aside as if she were a doll.  
  
Eric lunged at him next, but the Huntsman flattened him with one punch.   
  
“Eric!” Donna slammed the Huntsman back into the blood-stained table. Knives clattered to the floor. She picked one up, but the Huntsman hit it out of her hand.  
  
Jackie's left foot was trapped in her hair. She tore desperately at the thick tangle.  _ God,  _ how she hated curses.  
  
The Huntsman picked Donna up by her coat and threw her onto the table. Before he could do anything else, she punched him in the throat. It didn't even stun him. He pulled the long knife from his boot and held it at her neck.   
  
“Jackie!” Donna choked out. “Get the axe!”  
  
Jackie finally jerked her foot free, but her high heel remained buried in hair. She kicked off the other one and sped to the door.   
  
“Steven, give me the axe!” she said. She took hold of the handle, and he opened his fingers. The axe weighed heavily in her hands.  
  
“Jackie, do something!” Donna had grabbed the Huntsman's wrist, but she was barely keeping the knife from slicing her throat. “Chop his legs off, stick it in his skull—anything!”  
  
Jackie lifted the axe above the Huntsman's head, but her arms wouldn't bring the axe down.  
  
“Jackie!” Donna shouted.   
  
Jackie shifted her stance and drove the axe into the table. The table split in two pieces, dropping Donna and the Huntsman to the floor in opposite directions.   
  
“Oh, my God...” Jackie said and crouched by Donna. She seemed okay, but the Huntsman was roaring in pain. One of the animal traps had clamped tight on his knee, and metal spikes dug deep into his skin.   
  
Jackie gave the axe to Donna and snatched up a heavy branch. The Huntsman was writhing around, still howling. Jackie tightened her grip on the branch. Then she whacked him on the back of the head, and he slumped forward in silence.   
  
A small, satisfied thrill passed through her body. The Huntsman was unconscious.   
  
“Donna!” Eric walked up to them, rubbing his jaw. “Did you—did you kill him?”  
  
“Jackie just knocked him out,” Donna said. She handed Eric the axe, and he rested it on his shoulder.  
  
“Somebody move this fucking door!” Steven shouted. “My arm's abou—Kelso, quit pulling me, damn it.”  
  
Jackie and Donna rushed to the door and wrenched it open. Steven pushed his way inside with Michael following behind.   
  
“Everyone cool?” Steven said. He bent his arm a couple of times, wiggled his fingers.  
  
“Yeah,” Donna said.   
  
Michael flicked a leather strap that hung from the ceiling. “What is this place?”  
  
“It's a horrible place,” Jackie said. “Let's go.”   
  
“Wait.” Eric turned to the Huntsman, whose pant leg was soaked with blood. “We can't just leave him like this... can we?”  
  
Jackie and Donna groaned, but Steven said, “You're right.” He ripped the axe from Eric's hand and pulled it back like a baseball bat. “I'll do it.”  
  
“Wait!” Eric said. “We can't kill him... can we?”   
  
Steven looked at Eric but didn't lower the axe. “Of course we can, Forman. He'd snuff us in a second.”  
  
“Eric's right,” Donna said. “I mean, the guy's helpless now.”   
  
“Exactly why we should kill him  _ now. _ ” Steven swung the axe towards the Huntsman's neck.   
  
“Steven!” Jackie grabbed his arm and held it back.   
  
“Jackie, he's gonna come after us!” He was glaring at her. She could feel it through his sunglasses.   
  
She glared right back. “I don't care. You're not killing him.”  
  
She was shaking, but her grip on his arm stayed firm. No matter how angry he was now or how Zen he might be later, Steven had too gentle a heart—despite that he'd shattered hers and enjoyed kicking around the pieces—to live with killing a helpless man.   
  
She gave the Huntsman another glance. He was still bleeding, still unconscious. His life meant nothing to her, but Steven's meant...   
  
“Steven, please,” Jackie said softly.   
  
His face relaxed a little. “Fine.” He lowered the axe to his side. “But you're gonna wish I'd done it.” 

***

Hyde couldn't catch a break. Jackie and Donna had started to annoy him the moment they got out of the oak. They wanted him to chop off their hair, but he put the axe on his shoulder and walked ahead of them. They had to get as far away from this place as possible—and dig up Fez. Lucky for them, they got the hint. He was in no mood to explain himself.   
  
They made it to Fez's hiding place in about twenty minutes. The sky was getting dark, and Kelso crouched on the leafy ground to dig.   
  
“Okay, I'll take the axe now.” Forman held out his hand.  
  
“What for?” Hyde said.  
  
“To cut off their hair.”  
  
“Um, Eric?” Donna put her arm around Forman's shoulder. “I think you'd better let Hyde do it.”  
  
“What? Why?” Forman said.  
  
“Remember what you did to my wedding dress?”  
  
Forman opened his mouth then shut it. He joined Kelso on the ground and helped him dig.  
  
“Ladies,” Hyde motioned through the trees to a boulder, “you might wanna sit down. This is gonna take a while.”  
  
It took him over an hour. Their hair was so thick and snarled that he had to chop it off in sections. He started way back, about thirty feet from them, but eventually made it to their butts. Donna remained silent and still. And he cut her hair off at the shoulder, no problem. But Jackie kept twisting around and giving him directions, so he gathered her hair tightly at the nape of her neck—and hacked it off.  
  
“You're done,” he said and left Jackie sitting on the rock.   
  
He returned to the clearing where Kelso and Forman were just now pulling Fez free of the dirt. He was still a dog and still a gold stiff... and had about as much life to him as his wagon.  
  
“Welcome back, boy!” Kelso said. “Wanna go for a walk?”   
  
Eric stood up and brushed dirt and leaves off his pants. “Oh, hey!” he said when he noticed Hyde. “How'd the haircuts go?”   
  
As if she'd been waiting for the question, Donna emerged from the woods, shaking her hair like a freakin' Charlie's Angel. Jackie stomped past her moments later. Hell, Jackie stomped past everyone, and Hyde thought she was going to run off into the forest.  
  
Until Kelso started to laugh.   
  
She turned around. “Don't you d—”  
  
“BURN!” Kelso pointed at her hair with a dumb grin on his face. “Jackie, that's a burn. You look like a boy.”  
  
“Shut up!” She stomped back to him and smacked his chest.  
  
Hyde smiled. He couldn't help it. Jackie's hair was as short as Forman's, but she still looked very much like a chick.  
  
“And  _ you. _ ” She turned on Hyde next.   
  
_ Crap. _ She must have noticed him smiling. He forced his face back into its comfortable indifference.   
  
“I owe you something,” she said.   
  
“Yeah, what's tha—”  
  
She kicked him in the shin, and he bent over in pain. Even with just her bare foot, that girl could kick, man. He was careful not to drop the axe as he rubbed his leg. He'd need both his feet if he ever wanted to get out of here.   
  
Once he recovered, he held the axe away from him. “We gotta get rid of this thing.”   
  
“Let's bury it!” Kelso said.  
  
Hyde nodded. He put the axe into the hollow where Kelso and Forman had dug out Fez.  
  
“Wait, shouldn't we keep it?” Donna said.   
  
“Donna, if you'd seen the guy we won that from,” Forman said, “you wouldn't want to keep it either. I think that axe made him go crazy.”  
  
“Yeah, he's a wacko,” Kelso said. “a total—”   
  
“ _ Dumbass _ ,” Hyde and Forman said together.  
  
Hyde pushed a clod of dirt into the hollow with his boot. “Magic's like a politician, man. Use it for what you can; then get rid of it. You let a politician stick around too long, he'll bite you in the ass.”

***

It only took another twelve hours to reach the end of the forest. Twelve hours of listening to Jackie bellyache about her hair and bare feet. Twelve hours of Hyde wishing they hadn't buried the axe so soon. If the trees hadn't thinned out, if early morning light hadn't poured in—if they hadn't reached the end of this damn forest—he might've gone back to dig it up.   
  
“Yes!” Kelso shouted. He sped toward some open grassland with Fez rolling behind him. “Freedom! Freedom! Freed—”  
  
He crashed into a wagon. It was standing idle by a fork in the path.  
  
“That's Acorn's wagon,” Forman said. “That's it. That's him!”  
  
They all ran to it, but the Dwarf was sitting on a stump nearby, smoking a pipe. A cooking fire crackled in front of him.  
  
“Hey, Acorn!” Kelso said after he picked himself off the ground. “Remember us?”   
  
“Kelso, you got out of prison!” Acorn said. “How... unlikely.”  
  
The Dwarf looked as though he'd been the winner of a knife fight. His right eye had been sewn shut, and the deep scar above and below it showed why.   
  
“Where's our mirror?” Forman said.  
  
“Mirror?” Acorn shrugged.  
  
“It's ours,” Jackie said.  
  
Acorn took a drag off his pipe, and it smelled like tobacco. Too bad. Hyde was hoping to score some Dwarf moss.  
  
“Is it valuable, then?” Acorn said.  
  
Forman shook his head. “No, it's worthless.” Man, did Forman suck at lying. But Hyde kept his mouth shut.  
  
Acorn pulled the pipe out of his mouth. “You've come an awful long way to get back a worthless mirror.”  
  
“It's a magic mirror,” Jackie said quickly. “We traveled here through it, and we've been trapped in this damn world since.”   
  
“Jackie,” Donna said.  
  
Acorn climbed into his wagon, but he didn't pick up the horse's reins. He leaned back in the driver's box as if he were still willing to listen.   
  
“Look,” Jackie said, “all we want to do is go home. We won't take the stupid mirror, okay? We'll just use it to go home, and then you can do whatever you want with it.”   
  
Her voice was a desperate ache, and Hyde felt a sudden twist in his stomach.   
  
“I'm moved by what you say,” Acorn said.  
  
“Then, please,” Jackie said, “let us go home.”   
  
“But I don't have it anymore.”  
  
“What?” The desperate ache rose into Jackie's face, but she didn't cry— _ damn it. _ Hyde turned away from her. He was paying too much attention to how she looked, how she sounded. If she cried, who cared? If she didn't, who cared? They all wanted to get out of here.  
  
“I'm afraid I swapped it with someone in the village down the road there, not a half hour ago,” Acorn said.  
  
“Swapped it?” Forman hit the side of the driver's box. “Swapped it for what?”  
  
Acorn flipped over the dusty canvas covering his wagon. Hyde peered over Forman's shoulder, and a white lamb bleated back at them. It was standing in the wagon with a pink ribbon tied around its neck.   
  
Jackie started to yell. The others joined her, but it wasn't going to do any good. The mirror wasn't here anymore. It was somewhere in that village. Hyde left the wagon and headed down the road.  
  
“Oh, Hyyyde.” Laurie's voice. “Hyde, you can't just ignore me.”   
  
“Wanna bet?” He kept on walking.   
  
“Fine. But you've already started to lose it, loser.”  
  
Hyde stopped in spite of himself and glanced down. Laurie's face was rippling in a mossy pool of water. Her diamond crown reminded him of her “royal” position—and what she'd done to get it.   
  
“You almost killed my Huntsman,” she said.  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
Laurie smirked. “It would have been a sweet burn, too, if you hadn't wussed out. But I trust you. It won't be long now. That anger of yours will get hot enough to burn whoever's around you,” her voice shifted into a higher, mocking pitch, “including your little friends. Won't that be fun?”  
  
Hyde picked up a rock and chucked it at her watery face, but he didn't know if it had any effect. He'd started back down the road the moment the rock left his hand.   
  
She was right, though. He was beginning to lose it. To keep the Huntsman from coming after them, for what he'd already done... Hyde would have killed him. Jackie was the only reason he hadn't.  
  
He stopped at a signpost and waited for everyone to catch up. They had to get that mirror back, man. This place was pushing his Zen to its limits. He lived for days when he could crush the hearts and souls of his friends, but not Laurie's way.   
  
He'd rather set himself on fire.


	22. The Shepherdesses Are Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 22   
**THE SHEPHERDESSES ARE COMING**

For the first time since they designated him the leader, Hyde let everyone walk ahead of him.   
  
They were on the outskirts of the village, and log fences divided the grassland into different pastures. This was farming country, and Hyde was sure plenty of loot was just waiting for him here. He wanted to spot something useful to swipe, like a pair of shoes so Jackie would quit bitching about calluses.  
  
“Is that a cow?” Forman said.   
  
Hyde looked ahead and saw a pasture of cud-chewers. Tempting, but he wasn't going to steal a cow.   
  
“Ooh, let's tip one!” Kelso said.  
  
Jackie groaned. “I hate farms. Do we have to go to this village?”  
  
“This is where Acorn traded the mirror,” Donna said, “so...  _ yeah. _ ”  
  
“But there's something about this place that really creeps me out.” Jackie's shoulders raised, and she shivered. “Remember that painting  _ American Gothic?  _ You just know those farmers are hiding something like a dead body or a really tacky living room set.”  
  
“Why?” Hyde said. “Because they remind you of your roots, Beulah?”  
  
She turned around mid-stride. Her short hair really brought focus to the fury in her eyes. “Oh, you did  _ not _ just call me that.”  
  
“Kelso, did I just call Beulah 'Beulah'?”   
  
“Well, before I can confirm that, I'll need a witness,” Kelso said.   
  
Forman raised his hand. “I heard it.”  
  
“We have an affirmative on 'Beulah'.” Kelso covered his mouth as if he were speaking into a police radio. “I repeat: We have an affirm—ow! Jackie—OW! Quit it!”  
  
Jackie was whipping Kelso in the neck with Fez's rope. She gave it back to him after she was done.  
  
“If any of you—ANY OF YOU—call me Beulah again, I—”  
  
“You'll sing?” Kelso sounded genuinely afraid.  
  
“No, I'll bite you.” She quickened her pace with her head up and shoulders back. Despite everything she'd been through, her pride was alive and kicking. She'd even managed to style Hyde's hack job into something decent with nothing but spit and her fingers.   
  
Hyde smiled inwardly. That was good. It meant he could still burn her,  _ his _ way, without doing any real damage. He should've been ignoring her, but right now burning her felt better—and he needed to feel better after his little gab-fest with “Queen Laurie”. He'd go back to the ignoring once they found the mirror.  
  
The fields they passed were littered with scarecrows and wheat and wildflowers, but nothing worth stealing. Two miles later, they reached the foot of a hill. The village was close. A green meadow sprawled alongside the road, and a flock of sheep was grazing on the grass. They all had pink bows tied around their necks and a red letter “P” stamped on their white fleeces.   
  
“They're so cute,” Donna said.   
  
“So are they.” Forman pointed across the meadow. Three chicks were skipping toward the sheep with curved staffs. They had to be shepherdesses. The first and hottest shepherdesses Hyde had ever seen. And there was one of each: a brunette, a redhead, and a blonde—the blonde was especially nice. Her jugs barely stayed put in her blouse as she frolicked after the flock.   
  
“Oh. My. God,” Kelso said.  
  
Hyde elbowed him. “Keep cool, man.”  
  
The blonde skipped up to the fence and stopped right in front of Hyde. Her face matched her body—full lips, bright eyes—and she was smiling.   
  
“Hello,” Hyde said.   
  
“Mornin'.” Her head tilted, like she was sizing him up. The smile didn't fade. “My name's Sally Peep. I'm a shepherdess.”  
  
“You sure are!” Kelso shoved Hyde out of the way.   
  
Hyde retaliated and put him in a headlock. Kelso struggled to break free as more bouncy shepherdesses gathered into the meadow. But that only made Hyde strengthen his hold.   
  
“My,” Sally drew out the word, “what strong arms you've got.”  
  
_ Huh. _ Hyde was starting to like this chick.   
  
“If my door wasn't locked,” her voice was a coy whisper, “I'd be scared you'd come into my house and huff and puff and blow all my clothes off.” She giggled, and the other shepherdesses giggled with her.   
  
Hyde grinned. He was definitely __ liking this chick. “So... where do you live, Sally?”   
  
Jackie patted him on the back. “Okay, let's get to that village.”  
  
Hyde waved her off. “Go farm yourself,  _ Beulah. _ ”  
  
“Oh!” Jackie pinched him, and it hurt badly enough that he had to let go of Kelso.   
  
“Damn it.” Hyde rubbed his arm. “I thought you were gonna bite.”  
  
“Oh, I will. You just won't know when—or where.”  
  
“Hey, ladies,” Kelso wheeled Fez in front of him, “would you like to pet my dog?”  
  
An expression of disgust took over Sally's face. Seemed Kelso still couldn't get any. And Fez couldn't get any no matter what state he was in, the poor golden bastard.   
  
Donna grabbed Kelso's ear. “Time to go, big boy.” She dragged him down the road.   
  
Forman picked up Fez's rope and followed them, but the squeak of wagon wheels was drowned out by the shepherdesses' giggling. Hyde took a step toward the fence. The others could find the mirror. He was about to feel a whole lot better.   
  
“Sally,” Hyde said, “how abo—”  
  
Small hands shoved him down the road. Small, powerful hands. Jackie's.  
  
“You know, the only reason they like you is that curly hair of yours,” Kelso said when they'd caught up. “It reminds them of their sheep.”  
  
“No, man. They can tell I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing.” Hyde glanced back and watched the shepherdesses skip after their flock. Oh, yeah. He was gonna feel better, all right. Real,  _ real  _ soon. 

***

The village lay just beyond the meadow, and it looked like something out of a painting Hyde saw once. Maybe Beulah was right. Maybe the small cottages were hiding something sinister. Or, more likely, they were just boring little houses in a boring little town.  
  
They traveled down a cobblestone road for a while, and then they found the village square. Farmers were everywhere, carrying sacks of grain and baskets of bread. A line of shepherdesses was leading sheep on leashes, and Kelso followed them until Donna grabbed his ear again.  
  
Rows of shops and stands outlined the Square. According to the shingles, Bill Peep was the butcher, Gordon Peep was the grocer, Felicity Peep was the florist... The Peeps, it seemed, were “The Man” of this village. Good. Now Hyde knew who to steal from.  
  
“Welcome one and all to the second day of the Little Lamb Annual Village Competition!” a male voice said. The announcement came from somewhere nearby. “Well, it's a new day today and a new competition: The Best Radish in the Village!”  
  
“Let's check it out,” Donna said.   
  
She led everyone through an audience of villagers to the center of the Square, where a white-bearded man stood on a wooden platform. He looked like a professor in his brown suit, and he was holding a plate of radishes. Next to him were tables covered in fruits and vegetables, and the food itself was covered with prize ribbons.   
  
Hyde understood now. The professor was a judge.   
  
“Mrs. Morris,” the Judge said, “these radishes are beautiful! I give them nine-out-of-ten.”  
  
The villagers applauded.   
  
“But the Peeps' radishes...” the Judge lifted up a much larger plate with much larger radishes, “I'm afraid they've done it again—they're out of this world! I've got to give them ten-out-of-ten.”  
  
The villagers clapped again and cheered. Some even booed. They were completely engrossed by the competition, and Hyde took the opportunity to liberate some gold coins from them.   
  
He picked up five coins from a fat farmer's back pocket, and the Judge picked up a trophy. “Gordon Peep, come get your ninth award today.”   
  
As Gordon went up to the Judge, an old farmer near Hyde groaned. “The Peeps have done it again. They're just best at everything.”   
  
Hyde felt sorry enough for the guy not to pick his pocket. He moved onto a group of Peeps. He knew they were Peeps from the way they were congratulating each other and shouting praise at ol' Gordy.  
  
“Best farming family in the Nine Kingdoms!” one of them said.   
  
“You've made your uncle proud, you have!” said another.   
  
By the time Gordy was done bowing, Hyde had scored a nice bit of loot. His jacket pockets were jangling with it, which made it harder to sneak up on people and steal more. Harder, but not impossible.  
  
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the Judge said, “in an hour's time, I'll announce the winner of The Best Cheese in the village.”  
  
The audience's applause gave Hyde another dozen coins, a decent finish to his mini crime spree. He made a speedy getaway through the crowd and stopped by a small well. It had a wood shingle roof, a crank for lowering buckets—and a guy who looked awfully familiar sitting on its stone lip. He had the same long hair, same tan skin...  
  
For the first time since his head was almost chopped off, Hyde removed his shades and rubbed his eyes. Nope. The guy still looked like—  
  
“Leo?” Hyde said.  
  
“Hey,” the guy said. “you look just like Hyde!”  
  
“I  _ am  _ Hyde.” And though he didn't know how, that was definitely Leo.  
  
“No way, man. Hyde's never in my flashbacks. And this has been one damn long flashback, man.”  
  
Hyde put his shades back on.  
  
“Hyde!” Leo said. “When did you get here, man? I just saw a dude pass by who looked just like you.”   
  
“That  _ was _ me.”   
  
“It was?”  
  
“Yup.” Hyde gave his old friend a hug. He smelled like he did back home, a mixture of clean laundry and the sweet perfume of a stash. “Leo, man, I'm really glad to see you.”  
  
“Why? Were you blind?”   
  
“No.” Hyde stepped back. “How the hell did you get here, man? I thought you were up in Canada trying to 'find yourself'.”  
  
“I tripped.”   
  
Hyde nodded. That was as good an explanation as any. “Hey, Leo,” he said quietly, “you got any of that Dwarf moss on ya?”  
  
Leo looked at his arms and hands, and when he didn't find anything, he said, “No, man. I got it in the cottage I'm living in. That shit's stronger than anything I've ever smoked, man. It's terrible.”  
  
“Really?” Hyde's shoulders slumped a little.  
  
“Yeah, man. It's great.”  
  
“Cool.” Hyde smiled. He'd missed Leo. “So where's your cott—”  
  
Someone brushed against his arm. It was Forman and the rest of 'em.  
  
“Hyde—Leo?” Forman was staring. “What the hell is Leo doing here?”   
  
“He tripped, man,” Hyde said, and everyone nodded as if they understood.   
  
“Excuse me!” Jackie pushed in front of Hyde. “Could you tell us who's the president of this stupid village?”  
  
“Uh, Jackie, I think villages have mayors,” Donna said.  
  
“I was talking to the dirty hippie, Donna. So who is it?”   
  
“I'm the village idiot, man. I'm in charge of the wishing well,” Leo said.  
  
“Then you better watch out,” Hyde thumped Kelso on the back, “'cause you got competition.”  
  
“Yeah. I'm the King,” Kelso said.  
  
Donna coughed. “Of idiots.”  
  
“That's a nice dog you got there, man.” Leo pointed to Fez's golden face. “Reminds me of someone.”  
  
Hyde began to tell him who, but the audience of villagers swallowed his answer with applause. He turned around. Four guys were carrying a white and fluffy bedspread-thing that looked like something Jackie's mom would own.  
  
“What's that?” Forman said to Leo.  
  
“That's the village's present for Prince, uh, Prince...” Leo tapped his chin. “Damn. I can never remember his name, man. That's gonna be his coronation cloak.”  
  
Forman patted Fez's head. “You really are a prince, aren't you?”  
  
“Are you gonna make a wish, man?” Leo jumped off the well and moved behind it. “It's, like, really bad luck to pass by here without making a wish.”  
  
“Oh, no. I'm through with wishes,” Kelso said.  
  
Hyde plucked a gold coin from his jacket.  
  
“Gimme!” Kelso snatched it from Hyde's fingers.  
  
Jackie pouted. “Hey, how come he gets one?”  
  
“Relax, Beulah. I swiped enough loot for everyone.” Hyde pulled out four more coins and handed one each to Jackie, Donna, and Forman and kept one for himself.   
  
Everyone surrounded the well. Forman closed his eyes and kissed the coin, no doubt wishing Donna would put out for him again. Donna pressed the coin against her chin and peered at Forman. Her wish probably involved him having bigger balls. And Kelso was staring at the sky with a dopey grin. Had to be the same wish as before—a never-ending supply of 'tang.   
  
Jackie, though, was focused on the well. She could've been wishing for any number of things: to finally bag her prince, eternal hotness, or just to go home. She'd always had a lot of wishes, but none of 'em ever seemed to come true.  
  
Hyde flipped his coin back and forth over his fingers. Unlike Jackie, he didn't have any wishes left.   
  
No. That was a lie. He did have one wish, and he made it while everyone else tossed their coins into the well. Then he shrugged and chucked his coin in, too.   
  
A moment later, the coins clanked against the stone bottom of a very empty well.  
  
“Oh, it doesn't work, man,” Leo said. Kelso and Forman both cursed. “It used to be a real magic wishing well. Dudes traveled from all over the Kingdoms to have things blessed in it. That was before I got here, man. First village idiot told me so himself. Well's all dried up now.”   
  
“Yeah,” Hyde said, “kinda like Kelso's mom. Having twenty kids'll do that do you.”  
  
“It was only seven!” Kelso lunged at him, but Hyde side-stepped the tackle easily.   
  
“Kelso, get off those!” Donna shouted. Kelso had crashed into her, and his hands were resting on her boobs.  
  
“Damn, Donna! I was just trying to keep from falling!”  
  
Donna grasped Kelso's wrists and pried him off her. Then Forman frogged him in the back.  
  
Kelso didn't flinch. “Nice try. It's all better now.”   
  
“The well hasn't flowed for years, man,” Leo said. “I've made it my life's work—”  
  
“Enough about this stupid well,” Jackie said. “We're looking for a mirror, about this big,” she mimed its shape, “and black. We were told someone bought if off A-hole the Dwarf.”  
  
“Acorn,” Forman said.  
  
“Whatever. Have you seen it?”   
  
Leo nodded. “I'm here and day and night, man. I gotta wait by this well until it fills up again. What do you guys think of that?”  
  
“I'll tell you what I think!” Jackie sprang at him, but Hyde grabbed her around the waist and pulled her away.   
  
“Would you calm down?” he said. She struggled in his arms, and he adjusted his hold. “It's just Leo. You know how he is.”   
  
“Yeah, he's a complete idiot!”   
  
“If only, man,” Leo said. “The guy before me was a complete idiot. I'm just a half-wit.” 

***

The sky had grown dark by the time they'd found a place to sleep, and Jackie was absolutely miserable. Fidelity, a plump farmer's wife, had offered to let them stay in her family's stinky barn. Everywhere else was full thanks to the stupid competition. And even worse, they hadn't found the mirror yet. The only good thing to come out of this day was that Steven had stolen Jackie a pair of boots. They were thick and clunky, but at least they fit.   
  
Fidelity's farm was just down the road from the village square. She brought them toward the barn, and the light of her lantern reflected in Steven's sunglasses. He didn't need them—it was completely dark out—but they seemed permanently glued to his face. Jackie couldn't remember the last time she'd seen his eyes.   
  
“Here we are.” Fidelity opened the barn door and invited everyone inside. It stank of hay and animal. “Might not be as posh as what you're used to.”   
  
“It stinks,” Jackie said.   
  
Steven slid his arm around around her shoulders. “Don't be jealous, Beulah.”  
  
“I am not jeal—”  
  
He directed his next words at Fidelity. “Her daddy's barn got confiscated by her village. Sad story, really. Left ol' Beulah, here, bitter. This place is great.”  
  
Jackie didn't know what burned more, his continuous use of her forbidden middle name or her skin where his arm rested. Ever since they got to this village, he was touching her more, talking to her. She had no idea what was going on with him—or if she liked it.  
  
“Steven?”   
  
“What?”   
  
She elbowed him in the stomach. He grunted, and his arm fell away from her. One problem solved, at least.   
  
“Yeah, thanks for letting us stay here, Fidelity,” Eric said. “By the way, do you know of anyone who's bought a mirror from a traveling trader recently?”  
  
“Oh...” Fidelity glanced down at the pile of straw she was standing on. “Ah! You'll want to talk to the local judge. He bought a load of things off that Dwarf. Prizes for the annual competition. You'll find him in the inn over the road. They do lovely food there, too. Well, that's the understatement of the year.”   
  
She laughed heartily and just a little bit forced, which reminded Jackie of Mrs. Forman. Then Fidelity handed Eric the lantern and left them.  
  
The full moon shone through an open window, and Jackie shuddered as a gust of wind blew into the barn. This village appeared all nice and sweet on the outside. But just like a Red Hot, something nasty had to be waiting for them on the inside. Why was she the only one who seemed to know that? Of all people, Steven should've been just as edgy as she was. He suspected everyone and everything of having an ulterior motive.  
  
“Hey, Jackie...” Michael took her hand and brought her to a heap of straw. “Look at what I made for us. A love nest. We can literally 'roll in the hay,' baby. Get it?”   
  
Fez's golden face was sticking out from the middle of the straw.  
  
“Why is Fez in there?” Jackie said.  
  
“So he can watch, just like back home.”   
  
Jackie rolled her eyes and turned away.   
  
“Wolf!” The high-pitched scream reached them from outside the barn. “Wolf! Wolf!”  
  
Michael dove into his straw pile and hid, but Jackie ran out of the barn with everyone else. A man wearing a giant wolf's head was skipping down the road, knocking on cottage doors. Shepherdesses—including that skank Sally Peep—followed him, crying, “Wolf! Wolf!”  
  
This was some kind of game, probably to celebrate the annual competition. The men of the village left their cottages in droves. They were holding pitchforks and chased the shepherdesses down the road. Steven stepped forward as if he wanted to join the procession, but Donna held him back.  
  
“ _ That's _ where we're going,” she said and pointed to a sign across the road:

The Baa-Bar  
Manageress  
Barbara Peep

Steven shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”   
  
Everyone but Jackie headed for the inn. She popped back into barn to tell Michael where they were going, but he was sound asleep with Fez clutched to him like a stuffed animal. They looked kind of sweet that way, and she didn't bother to wake him.   
  
When she returned outside. Steven, Donna, and Eric were just entering the inn.  
  
“Hey, guys, wait up!” Jackie shouted and ran across the road.

  
  



	23. A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 23   
**A WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING**

“Man, this is better than my mom's!” Forman said. He dug his fork into a bright orange squash. “I mean, look at me. I'm eating vegetables!”   
  
The Baa-Bar was crowded with farmers, but it smelled more like Mrs. Forman's kitchen than any bar Hyde had ever been to. They'd found a free table in the corner, ordered several of everything off the menu, and soon their table was covered in the best looking grub he'd seen in his life.  
  
“These potatoes...” Donna waved her hand over her plate like she couldn't believe what she was eating.  
  
“Did you try the squash?” Forman said.  
  
Donna and Forman weren't quite together since his rescue of her from the Huntsman's oak, but they weren't as far apart either. Hyde had no clue if their truce would last, and he didn't give a crap. Not when he was this hungry.  
  
He swallowed a bite of cooked lamb. It tasted spicy and sweet and damn good. So did the cider in his pewter mug. Kelso was missing out, but Hyde sure as hell wasn't going back to the barn to wake him. Not when he had this feast just begging to be eaten. Fat tomatoes, tender beef, warm bread...  
  
And Jackie didn't seem to notice any of it. Her fork was clinking repeatedly against one of the bowls of vegetables.  
  
“Beulah,” he dropped a potato onto her empty plate, “eat something.”  
  
“Yeah, Jackie, this food's amazing,” Donna said. “You've got to be hungry.”  
  
A low rumble issued from Jackie's stomach. “Not really.”   
  
“Then why's your belly growling?” Hyde said.  
  
“First off,” Jackie shoved her fork in his face, “I do not have a belly. Second, maybe if you'd quit calling me Beu—that name, I'd actually have an appetite.”  
  
“Right. So it's my fault you're starving yoursel—”  
  
“Hyde—guys, look.” Donna gestured behind him. Someone had tacked up a sign on a wooden beam. “Tomorrow's competition.”  
  
Jackie left her seat and went up to the sign. “Hey, the mirror's one of the prizes—for some 'Sheep and Shepherdess' competition.” She sat back down, and she must have felt relieved because she cut into the potato. “Wow,” she said after her first bite, “this really is good.”  
  
“We've got to talk to the Judge,” Forman said. Donna nodded.  
  
The manageress of the bar, Barbara Peep, stopped by their table with another bowl of vegetables, a pitcher of cider—and a merry smile. “Here we are, my dears.”   
  
Jackie pulled the bowl of vegetables toward her plate. She'd devoured the potato already and replaced it with a squash and three tomatoes.   
  
Hyde downed the rest of his mug in two swallows and held it out to be refilled. Barbara did; then she watched cheerily as Jackie chomped into a tomato. Juice was running down Jackie's chin. She was eating like a botard, but at least her mood had lifted.  
  
Donna tossed her a slice of bread. “Hey, Beulah, clean up on aisle three.”  
  
“Bomma,” Jackie's mouth was stuffed with food, including the piece of bread, “mup your mupping mouf.”  
  
Barbara turned away from the table, but Forman reached over and tapped her elbow. “Miss Manageress,” he said, “is the Judge around?”  
  
“Oh, the Judge will be in for his dinner at eight o' clock on the dot.” Barbara sure was chipper. That smile of hers hadn't left her face once. “I hope you're enjoying these lovely vegetables.”  
  
“They're great,” Hyde said. “Delicious and cheap, like all great things.” He finished off another pint of cider. He couldn't get enough of it, and it wasn't even alcoholic.   
  
Barbara refilled his mug again. “That cider comes from young Colin Peep's apples, and the lamb was reared by my brother, Larry Peep.” She pointed to two blond farmers who sat at a long, candlelit table. That hot shepherdess, Sally, was sitting next to Colin—and they were both surrounded by what seemed to be the whole Peep clan.  
  
“Everything you're eating comes from us Peeps,” Barbara said. “Best farming family in the whole of the Nine Kingdoms if I say it myself.”  
  
“Well, you go right ahead and say it,” Forman said. He sounded like a gushy jackass. “What's your secret?”  
  
That was something Hyde wanted to know, too. No one could be that happy, not without a little help.   
  
“Oh, I suppose we're just good farmers.” Barbara shrugged and moved on to another group of patrons.  
  
A minute later, Kelso burst into the bar with Fez in tow. He gasped when he got to Hyde's shoulder—and the table full of food.  
  
“Guys, how could you just leave me in the barn like that?  
  
“'Cause it's funny,” Hyde said.  
  
Kelso took a seat by Jackie and piled food onto a plate. “I'm starving!” He ripped into a lamb chop.   
  
An older couple at a table nearby seemed disgusted by Kelso's appetite. They packed up and left, but their newspaper remained behind. Hyde picked it up and started to read.  
  
“Hey, listen to this,” he said. “The Trolls have taken over the southwest region of Fez's kingdom.”  
  
“That can't be good,” Forman said.  
  
Donna took the paper from Hyde's hand. “How'd they do that?”  
  
“How else?” Hyde said. “Must be a bunch of dumbasses down there.”  
  
“I heard the Queen's escaped.” A bearded farmer at another table turned his chair to face them. “She's behind it all, you know. They're talking about an all-out war between the Nine Kingdoms.” He banged his fist on the table, and his plates rattled. “Where's the Prince, I say? If he's not careful, he's going to lose his kingdom.”  
  
Hyde peered over at Fez, who was standing gold and silent between Kelso's legs.   
  
“No, he's not,” Kelso said. “He's probably off somewhere preparing for battle.” He turned his attention away from the farmer. “Hyde, I bet I can eat more lamb chops than you.”   
  
“Oh, yeah?” Hyde grabbed a chop and tore into it. When he'd finished that one, he took another. Kelso did the same.   
  
“ _Eww_ ,” Jackie said. “You're a bunch of—”  
  
“You've got an appetite like a wolf, you have.” Barbara Peep was back at their table, laughing directly at Hyde.   
  
“Me?” He gestured to Kelso. “What about him?”   
  
“It's the beard,” Donna said.   
  
Kelso's mouth was full of chewed lamb, and he sang, “She thinks you're a wolf.”   
  
“And you're a pig,” Jackie said. “Swallow already.”   
  
“Oh! By the way, folks,” Barbara said, “Judge has just walked in if you want to talk to him.”  
  
“Thank you.” Donna stood up. Forman joined her, but she patted him on the shoulder. “Why don't you let me and Jackie handle this?”  
  
“Because who better to convince a judge,” Forman pointed to himself, “than the All-Star member of Old Maine's debate team?”  
  
Hyde threw a giant pea at him. “Two hot chicks. Sit down, Forman.” Jackie's eyes widened, as if he'd said something strange. “What?” he said, but she didn't answer. Instead, she silently hooked her arm around Donna's walked toward the Judge. 

***

Jackie was using her flirtiest voice, her flirtiest laugh, her flirtiest smile. The Judge didn't seem to notice. He was far too interested in his food. He barely even looked from his plate when she or Donna spoke. They were sitting across from him at his table, and a fire roared in a brick fireplace beside it. The inn really was rather cozy, despite all the farmers.   
  
“So you can see,” Jackie said, “in a way, this mirror really is ours.”  
  
“No, it's not. I bought that fair and square.” The Judge took a sip from his mug, and she wanted to smash it against his thick-eyebrowed face. “I buy a whole batch of things every year for the village prizes.”  
  
Jackie reached into her jacket pocket. “Fine. I know how these things work, Your Honor.” She placed some of the money Steven had given her by the Judge's plate. “So I'm going to let you have a few gold coins—”  
  
“I'm a Judge.” He glared at her, and she shrank back toward Donna. “I don't like people trying to bribe me.”  
  
Jackie started to protest.  
  
“Not another word! Or I'll have you thrown out of the village.”  
  
“Oh, ye—”  
  
Donna covered Jackie's mouth and yanked her away from the table—before Jackie could tell the Judge what she really thought about his judgment.

***

In front of a painted backdrop of rolling hills, two hot milkmaids were yodeling. Usually, the sound made Hyde want to stab a pencil through his eardrums, but these chicks wiggled their bodies around just the right way. He wouldn't have minded making them yodel elsewhere—say, in a bed of straw—but for now, he leaned against a wooden beam and watched them dance.  
  
About a minute later, he shifted his focus to their boobs. As much as he enjoyed it, the sway of the milkmaids' hips was reminding him—painfully—of just how long it had been since he'd gotten any. With all the distractions, the Trolls and the Huntsman and the trying not to die, he hadn't thought about sex at all. If this village gave him the time, he planned on rectifying that.  
  
As the yodeling reached a crescendo, someone tapped his shoulder. He tore his gaze from the milkmaids and turned around. Sally Peep was standing two feet away from him with a jar of candy in her hand. The top of button of her blouse was undone, and her grin seemed almost as big as her breasts.   
  
“You're new here, aren't you?” she said to him. Another shepherdess joined her, and Sally glanced at her conspiratorially. She wanted something.   
  
So did he.   
  
Sally pressed her body against the beam and held the jar out to him. “I can't get these sherbet dips undone. Could you help me, Mr. ...?”  
  
“Hyde.” He took the jar and popped open the lid.  
  
“'Hyde'?” Sally and the other shepherdess giggled.  
  
He handed the jar back and caught a glimpse of brown hair and the boots he'd nabbed from a cobbler. Jackie was freakin' spying on him from behind another beam.  
  
“But you can call me Steven,” he said and gave Sally a smile.  
  
“It's my eighteenth birthday today.” She moved in front of the beam and lay back on it, giving him a nice view of her cleavage. “Bet you can't guess what's gonna happen to me tonight.”  
  
“I have a few ideas,” Hyde said and closed the distance between them. She leaned her soft, warm jugs into his chest, and he became suddenly aware that his jeans were feeling a whole lot tighter.  
  
“You've got quite a lot of hair.” She touched his beard. She must have liked it because she stroked his jawline a few times. Then her fingers inched up to his shades. “What's this hiding your eyes?” she said. “They're no kind of spectacles I've ever seen.”  
  
“That's because they're magic,” Hyde said.  
  
Sally giggled again and started to pull off his glasses.   
  
Someone growled—it was Larry Peep. He charged at Hyde from behind the beam and shoved him into the wall. Colin came over and jabbed the business end of a pitchfork at Hyde's face.   
  
“No outsiders mess with Peep girls, you understand?” Larry Peep said. He was a skinny guy, but his arms were shot through with muscle. The painful grip he had on Hyde's jacket didn't keep any secrets either. The denim collar dug into the back of Hyde's neck, and Larry's knuckles bore into his shoulders.   
  
Hyde curled his fingers into fists. Odds were fifty-fifty he'd be getting his ass kicked tonight.   
  
Colin Peep brought his pitchfork close to Hyde's shades, increasing those odds to sixty-forty. “What're you doing around here anyway, Mr. Hyde?” Colin said.   
  
“Hey, man, I was jus—”  
  
Larry put a finger to Hyde's lips to shush him. “Let's take him out back...” he slammed Hyde into the opposite wall, “and ask him properly.”   
  
Tiny stars burst inside Hyde's skull. He wanted to fight back, but he couldn't get his body to obey him.   
  
“Excuse me,” Jackie ran up to the Peeps and touched Larry's arm, “what are you doing to my husband?”  
  
“Your husband?” Larry sounded shocked as hell. No contest to what Hyde was feeling.  
  
Jackie's hand swept over Hyde's forehead. “Yes, he's not feeling well at all today,” she said.  
  
Colin lowered the pitchfork, and Larry's grip on Hyde's jacket loosened, but he clearly wasn't convinced yet.  
  
Jackie wedged herself between the Peeps, and her hands cradled the sides of Hyde's face.   
  
“Jacki—”  
  
She kissed him. He tried to ignore it, but the warmth of her mouth—the soft push and pull of her lips—kindled something cold and dormant within his chest. He wanted to bring himself closer to her body and deeper into her mouth, to feel her with him, to feel...  
  
But she drew away. Larry had let go of him.  
  
“Thanks,” Jackie said. “Good night.” She took hold of Hyde's arm and pulled him to the exit.  
  
He stopped her at the door. “What the hell was that? Your 'husband'?”  
  
“I only said it to get you away from them. Come on!” She shoved him outside.  
  
The full moon was shining directly above them. Jackie sped down the road, and Hyde had to jog to keep up. She only stopped when they'd reached a grove near Fidelity's barn.  
  
“Steven, I can't do this,” she said.  
  
“Do what?” Hyde said. The night air was chilly, but the embers inside him hadn't cooled one freakin' bit.   
  
She slouched limply against a tree. “Be here in this village... with those people.”  
  
“I don't think it's so bad.”  
  
“Well, of course you don't. You've got skanks throwing themselves at you left and right.”  
  
“Yeah...” Hyde leaned on the tree beside Jackie, “and their brothers wanna skin me alive, so it evens out.”  
  
She didn't say anything. Crickets were chirping all around them, and her focus seemed to be on the grass. He had his chance to get away, so why wasn't he leaving?   
  
“Steven,” she said finally, “when I... did you feel anything?”  
  
He pushed himself off the tree. “Jackie, I don't feel.”  
  
She grabbed his hand from behind. He wanted to shake her off, but then she hugged his whole damn arm to her body. The heat of her passed through his sleeve and into his skin, into muscle and bone.  
  
“I only kissed you to get those farmers to leave you alone,” she said.  
  
He shrugged. “Good to know.”   
  
Suddenly, a sharp pain bit into his earlobe. He cried out, and Jackie released his arm.  
  
“Hah! I knew it!” She was standing in front of him now, with a triumphant smile on her face. “I knew you could still feel things.”  
  
Hyde rubbed his earlobe. “Hard not to when someone bites you.”  
  
“I owe you about a dozen more for all the times you've called me Beu—that name. Why do you keep calling me that?”  
  
“'Cause it pisses you off,” he said.   
  
“So the only way for you to acknowledge my existence is to hurt me?” All traces of joy had left her, and she took a step back. “Am I so disgusting to you?”   
  
Hyde intended to answer with silence. The ache in her voice wouldn't let him. “Jackie, in the bar, I did feel somethi—”  
  
Jackie slipped her arms around his neck before he could finish. The moonlight lit her eyes, and he didn't want to smile at her, but his lips gave him no choice. He was freakin' smiling. What he needed to do was push her away, but his hands slid behind her back and drew her closer. It was the spell, that damn spell. She'd reached him, and he couldn't keep her out.   
  
He opened his mouth, and the movement of hers against it, into it, sent heat surging through his body. All the defenses he'd built were useless. Her touch made him harder than he'd been, softer than he'd been in since...   
  
His eyes closed, just so he could feel her for one damn minute without thinking. Her fingertips lightly stroked the nape of his neck. Her teeth grazed his bottom lip, and she bit him—gently this time. Even so, his lip burned.   
  
“Steven,” she whispered against his mouth.   
  
And now all he felt was his need for her. It was his curse, man, and it condemned him like a prisoner.   
  
He didn't care. He pulled her toward the barn.


	24. Where Zen Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

 CHAPTER 24  
**WHERE ZEN ENDS**

“Man, did you see those shepherdess?” Kelso said. He was carrying Fez out of the Baa-Bar. Donna and Eric were still inside. They'd gotten involved in a game of Hit-the-Wooden-Sheep with an elderly farming couple. And Hyde and Jackie were—well, he didn't know where they'd gone.  
  
“Good thing that food was so good,” Kelso said, “or I'd be having needs... just like yours, buddy!” Though Fez couldn't talk back, Kelso didn't care. Maybe if he kept talking, the spell would break. It had to wear off eventually, right?  
  
“Let's go for a walk, Fez. I'll tell you about that time I did the Ziegler twins again.”  
  
He put Fez down and pulled him along in his small wagon. They traveled down an isolated road for a long while, but he didn't feel alone. He had his best pal with him, his golden doggy Fez... with the frozen, pissed-off face?  
  
Kelso stopped for a moment. “Look, Fez, I feel bad about what I did to you, okay? But I got you into this mess, so I'll get you out.”  
  
They passed by a pen full of horses. They'd come to the edge of the village, and he spotted a wooden sign.

PEEP FARM  
KEEP OUT  
DOGS LOOSE

A bunch of farmers and shepherdesses were leaving a farmhouse nearby. Kelso hid himself behind some bushes—a concealment tactic he'd learned on his own, way before his academy days. He watched as the farmers and shepherdesses went into a barn across a small pasture. Were they going to have a party?  
  
Kelso scratched Fez's golden ears. “Wait here,” he whispered.  
  
The last of the farmers had gone inside and shut the door. Kelso crept over to the barn and found a crack between its wooden boards wide enough to spy through. This was some sweet undercover work, all right. Too bad Officer Kennedy wasn't here to see it.  
  
All the farmers had lanterns, which threw off enough light for Kelso to make out their faces. These were the same people who were having dinner together at the bar—the Peeps. Straw covered the barn floor in a thick carpet, and a huge pile of it had been shaped into a throne.  
  
The oldest Peep, a balding dude with white hair, sat on the throne like a king. One of the farmers had called him Wilfred.  
  
“Where's the birthday girl at?” Wilfred said.  
  
Sally, that hot chick who'd dogged Kelso for Hyde, approached the throne—but she stayed about ten feet away from it.  
  
“Why do you think everything the Peeps make tastes so good?” Wilfred said.  
  
Sally shrugged and grinned. “I don't right as know.” Then she giggled, but it wasn't a happy giggle. It was a cagey one. Kelso knew the difference. “Used to be there was a magic well in town, but the well's dried up. Everyone knows that.”  
  
“Do they now?” Wilfred smiled. “Well, since you're eighteen, I'm gonna let you in on the family secret.” He motioned for Sally to come closer.  
  
She sashayed up to him—God, she was perfect. Perfect bouncy jugs, perfect hips to hold onto. Kelso wished he could get her alone.  
  
“Go on, boys,” Wilfred said. Larry and Colin Peep swept the floor clear of straw. Then Wilfred's voice grew so low that Kelso had to strain to hear him. “The reason there's no water in the well is 'cause me and my brother diverted the stream forty years ago. The Peeps have all the magic now!”  
  
Sally's perfect mouth fell agape. Kelso really wanted to get her alone.  
  
Larry and Colin pulled open what appeared to be double cellar doors and uncovered a large hole in the floor. Colorful sparkles drifted into the air and lit up the barn.  
  
“Wh—“ Kelso slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from blurting something stupid.  
  
“Let's have a look at your sheep,” Wilfred said, and Sally led out the most uggo farm animal Kelso had ever seen. Its fleece was dingy and overgrown. Its face was indiscernible from its body.  
  
Wilfred laughed. “Ugly bugger isn't it? Can't see him winning you the Lovely Shepherdess Competition.”  
  
Larry and Collin put the sheep into a harness and lowered it into the hole. Droplets of water splashed up along with the sparkles.  
  
“What do you wash in my waters?” The voice, feminine and surprisingly sexy, came from the well.  
  
“Fill this sheep with your goodness and life,” Wilfred said.  
  
The water bubbled, and the sheep's bleat echoed up from the hole. Larry and Colin nodded at each other. Then they winched the sheep back up amid a cloud of golden stars. Kelso's hand still covered his mouth and muffled a yelp of surprise. The sheep now had a golden fleece.  
  
Sally jumped up and down and giggled with delight. “Wilf,” she said, “it's amazing.” She went to hug the old guy, but he pushed her away.  
  
“Don't you never breathe a word to anyone,” Wilf said, “or I'll cut your throat, grandchild or no grandchild.”  
  
Kelso tumbled backward onto the grass. The expression on Wilf's face scared him more than Red's—even more than that time Red had threatened to kill him for dating Laurie. He got up and ran to the bushes where Fez was waiting for him. What he'd just seen was too interesting to keep to himself.  
  
He grabbed Fez's rope and raced down the road. 

***

Hyde had tossed his jacket somewhere inside the barn and lowered Jackie onto a pile of straw. She kissed him fiercely, almost desperately as though she never would again, but he kept pulling away to look at her. He could see her eyes by the light of the lantern. They were frightened, and they wanted him, but they also gave him more than he ever felt worthy of... and the doubt that they really wanted him at all.  
  
His fingers slipped underneath her blouse, and Jackie moaned quietly as his palm swept over her stomach toward her breasts. The pulse in her neck beat insistently against his lips. He was kissing her soft skin, and the speed of her heart made him reach for her hand.  
  
“I know you're with me, Steven,” she whispered. Her hot breath warmed his ear, stoking the flames already inside him.  
  
His mouth pushed gently back into hers, and then more intensely as her legs wrapped around his hips. He was so damn hungry for what she was offering, and his body responded by slowly thrusting against her, but his gaze returned to her eyes. He needed what was in them more: the lie that she loved him as he was, not for what he could possibly become.  
  
Jackie's hands cupped his face. Her fingertips brushed his ear, slipped up to his shades. She started to pull them off, but he wouldn't let her.  
  
“Jackie...”  
  
She moved to his belt. And he wished, more than anything, that he could just give in.  
  
“Jackie, no.”  
  
He pulled her hands from his buckle. He'd already lost himself once to her. He wouldn't lose himself again  
  
“Steven, what's wrong?” she said. “What happened?”  
  
“I'm not gonna do this, not even to you.” He pushed himself off her.  
  
Jackie sat up. “Do what?”  
  
“Fuck you just 'cause I couldn't score with the hot blonde.”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“Jackie,” he moved back a step, “when I said I felt something from that kiss in the bar, I meant horny. That's it.”  
  
“I don't believe you.” She was standing now. “I don't. The way you—I know the difference.”  
  
“How could you? You've only been with me and Kelso, unless...”  
  
She crossed her arms and stared straight at him. “Right. I know the difference.”  
  
_ Damn it. _   
  
“Fine.” He took of his shades and hooked them on his collar. “Even if I do feel something, it doesn't change a damn thing. I don't want to be with you—any more than you actually want to be with me.”  
  
“But I do.” Jackie closed the space between them and put a hand over her heart. “Steven, I do because I love you.”  
  
“No, you don't.”  
  
She stepped closer to him, so close that their faces were barely inches apart. She cradled his cheek and searched his eyes. It took everything he had not to lean into her hand.  
  
“Steven, I...” She withdrew from him suddenly, as if she'd been—  
  
Burned.  
  
He put his shades back on.  
  
“Hey! You're never gonna get what I found.” Kelso barreled into the barn with golden Fez. Forman and Donna were behind them. “I know why the Peeps win everything!”  
  
Hyde shoved Kelso away from the door and ran into the night. 


	25. Jackie Shepherdess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

 CHAPTER 25  
 **JACKIE SHEPHERDESS**

Hyde was racing toward the village square. The full moon followed him overhead, and he couldn't outrun it any more than the fire incinerating his damn insides. His white-hot heart scorched his brain. He wanted both to char and blacken, to burn away. He'd thought they already had, but Jackie screwed all that. She made him believe he was more than just a burnout, made hm fuckin' feel, man, and it was all a bunch of crap.  
  
He passed into the edge of Fidelity's farm. Moonlight reflected in wooden troughs of water, and he dunked his head into one—shades and all. Man, he had to cool down. He was gonna be no good to anybody if he couldn't freakin' chill.   
  
When he pulled his face out, the moon was rippling in the water. His hair was soaked, and the night was cold, but he still felt the heat of Jackie's—everything—inside his skin. He took off his water-spattered shades and wiped them on his shirt.   
  
“Who are the losers with you?” The moon's watery reflection spoke with Laurie's voice. Then her face emerged, liquid, at the center of it.   
  
“Get bent.” He put his shades back on. He never should've taken them off.   
  
“Why do you have to hide them from me?” she said. “How are they controlling you?”  
  
“She doesn't control me.”  
  
“She?” Laurie's expression filled with dark satisfaction. “What's she like? Is she a good fuck?”   
  
Hyde clutched the sides of the trough. “Go to hell.”  
  
“You're burning, Hyde. Tell me what you'd really like to do to her. Serve me, and let the little felon out.”  
  
There was magic in her voice. He felt it. This wasn't Laurie, but it was Laurie...   
  
He flipped over the trough. But her words threaded into his skull even as water spilled onto the grass and pooled around his boots. He didn't need her—or anyone else. All he needed was a circle so he could finally believe that.

***

The rooster's call woke Jackie up, but it was the funky, old-sock smell that made her open her eyes. Michael was holding the scrawniest, ugliest sheep Jackie had ever seen right under her nose. It bleated at her.  
  
“Michael!” she shouted and scooted back in her bed of straw. The sheep ran between Michael's legs.  
  
“Hey, don't scare it.” He tugged on the sheep's rope leash to keep it from running any further. “Took Eric and me almost three hours to catch it.”  
  
She looked behind her. Eric waved. Donna was standing next to him with her fingers laced on his shoulder. They seemed rather cozy.  
  
“Why did you steal that sheep, Michael?” Jackie said.  
  
“For the competition!” Michael hugged the sheep to him. “The Beautiful Sheep and Shepherdess Competition.”  
  
“No...” She stood up and backed away. “ _ No _ , Michael.”  
  
“Yes, yes,” Eric said. “How else are we going to get that mirror?”  
  
“Donna may come from peasant stock,” she said and picked straw off her blouse,” but  _ I _ am not a shepherdess. I am Jackie B—”  
  
“ _ Beulah, _ ” Michael, Eric, and Donna all said together.  
  
“Whatever!” Jackie brushed her hands through her hair. “Donna, if you want to enter that contest, go right ahead. I don't know anything about sheep.”   
  
“You don't have to,” Michael said. He was grinning. “That's the beauty of my plan.”  
  
She sighed. Michael's plans were never beautiful. The scrawny lamb was snuffling at a pile of hay. That wasn't a Jackiesheep. It was an Ericsheep.  
  
“Well, that sheep sucks,” Jackie said. “It looks like it's about to drop dead.”  
  
“It won't once it has a trip down the magic wishing well,” Michael said. He sounded so confident, and that was always trouble.  
  
Eric took the sheep's leash from Michael. “All right, listen,” he said. “You and Kelso get busy making your costume. Donna and I are going to get this sheep dunked.”  
  
Jackie raised an eyebrow. “My costume?”   
  
“Yeah, yeah.” Michael walked to a clothesline where several large pieces of cloth hung. “See? And I already got a couple of sewing kits from Fidelity.”   
  
“Okay, make it fast, you two. We've got a mirror to win,” Eric said. Then he and Donna left the barn with the sheep trailing behind them.  
  
Jackie paced the straw-covered floor. “Why do I have to enter? Donna should be the one. She's got those giant, sheep-catching hands.”  
  
“It's a beauty competition, Jackie.” Michael yanked a piece of cloth off the line. “And who's more beautiful than you?”  
  
“No one.”  
  
“Exactly.” He started to cut the cloth into strips. “You really are beautiful, you know.”  
  
“I know.” Jackie kept pacing. Those words came so easily to Michael. They always had. “Where's Steven?” she said. “Did he sleep here at all last night?”  
  
“Nope. Probably snuck over to the Peeps' farm to make it with that Sally chick. Her brothers can't watch her every second, right?” Michael measured a chartreuse strip of cloth with his hands.  
  
“Right...” Jackie spotted Steven's denim jacket in the corner of the barn. She'd never seen as much pain in his eyes as she had last night. The blue sky of them had gone cold and dark. All because...  
  
She picked up his jacket and sniffed its collar. His smell, balmy and sweet like the moist summer air, turned acrid in her throat. And the taste of him, it rolled through her like mist, like clouds thick with lightning—now vapor on her tongue. She'd never feel his laughter breeze gently against her ear, never breathe in again all the things that made him uniquely  _ Steven _ ... All because—  
  
He didn't believe she loved him.  
  
“Aw, Jackie,” Michael stood up and put his arm around her shoulders. Tears had gathered in her eyes. She was crying into Steven's jacket. “Don't worry. We'll win that mirror. With my sewing skills and your hotness, we can't lose!”   
  
The competition. Jackie pulled the jacket from her face. Steven had her heart, but he didn't believe it. After everything they'd shared together, he didn't believe it. All she wanted to do was find him, to find out why... __ But the competition. She had to focus on getting the mirror back.   
  
“Okay, but I'm not wearing green,” she said and threw Steven's jacket over a hay bale. “I'm an autumn, not a spring, remember?”  
  
Michael nodded and grabbed a more appropriate cloth off the clothesline.

***

“Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!”   
  
Eric, Donna, and their sheep had ducked behind the Peeps' barn just in time. Sally Shepherdess hadn't seen them. She was too busy shouting near a wrecked chicken coop.  
  
“Wolf! Wolf!”  
  
The oldest Peep, Wilfred, and two others hurried up to her. Eric recognized them. They were Larry and Colin, the guys who'd wanted to beat the crap out of Hyde last night.   
  
Larry peered inside the coop. “All the chickens are gone!” he said. Feathers were everywhere. Someone had painted a pot leaf onto the coop's broken door with smashed blueberries.  
  
Wilfred's face grew as red as one of the Peeps' magic-enhanced tomatoes. Without another word, he and the other Peep men ran toward town while Sally went into the Peeps' farmhouse.   
  
Eric looked over at Donna. She knew as well as he did that it was no wolf who'd committed such vandalism.   
  
It was Hyde.

***

Hyde awoke slumped over a wooden fence. Something warm and wet was nuzzling his cheek. He reached out and touched... a horse's nose? Where the hell was he?  
  
He opened his eyes, and the morning light stung him. Didn't he normally have something to protect himself from that? He patted his face. No shades. He checked his shirt collar—not there either. When had he lost them? Last night? He'd found Leo at the dried-up well last night. Leo rolled them a giant of Dwarf moss, and then... nothing. Hyde couldn't remember shit.  
  
He pushed himself to his feet, but he held onto the fence for support. His legs were so damn wobbly, and blueberry juice streaked his hands. Whatever he'd done last night, it must have been fun.  
  
Horses whickered and whinnied all around him. He was on a farm somewhere. The smell of horse crap was giving him a headache, but it didn't ruin his appetite. He was starving, and his throat was dry. Leo had spoken true, man. Dwarf moss was terrible—and great. The grass seemed to be dancing beneath him, and the breeze sounded like Zeppelin's “What Is and What Should Never Be”.  
  
Man, he was thirsty.  
  
He stumbled to a horse trough and fell to his knees. The water reflected the bright blue of the sky, or was it his eyes? Jackie always used to tell him his eyes reminded her of the sky. And then he'd put on his shades and tell her to shut up, but secretly her voice lit him from the inside like the freakin' sun. She'd only caught him smiling about it once.  
  
He was smiling now.  
  
“Shut up, Jackie,” he said and reached for his shades, but they weren't there. Neither was Jackie.   
  
Damn it. He was still high.  
  
He plunged his head into the trough. The water was freezing. That was good. He had to sober up.  
  
“HYDE!”   
  
He yanked his face from the water. His wet hair clung to his forehead.   
  
Laurie's face was rippling in the trough, but it could've been an hallucination. He had no way to tell.   
  
“Kill the girl,” she said.  
  
“Not like I haven't tried, man,” he mumbled. And he had tried—in his mind, in his heart, but Jackie was too deeply jammed in both.  
  
“Kill her,” Laurie said, “and get me the dog. Yeah, I know he's with you. Do both.  _ Now. _ ”   
  
Hyde submerged his hands in the trough water and flipped her off. Then he staggered away. That Dwarf moss was heavy shit, man, but it had to wear off sometime. He needed to find Jackie—no. Any girl who  _ wasn't _ Jackie. He had to put out the damn fire. It was still burning. He just needed a hot, willing chick. And it wouldn't take him long to find one either. Seemed to be as many of those in this village as there were chickens.

***

“Due to the appalling chicken massacre this morning,” the Judge said, “we're bringing forward the Beautiful Shepherdess Competition.”   
  
He spoke in the village square from his place on the wooden platform. A huge crowd had gathered, but Jackie was hiding herself away until the big reveal. Michael really was a great seamstress. Her shepherdess costume fit perfectly and complimented her skin tone and eyes.  
  
“The prize for winning the competition,” the Judge continued, “is a trophy and this lovely old mirror.”  
  
The mirror, their way home, sat behind a table covered in silver trophies. A contestant sign-up sheet was tacked up on a board nearby.   
  
“Here come the shepherdesses!” someone in the crowd shouted.   
  
Sally Peep, that skank, flounced toward the village square in a saffron yellow bodice and tawdry peach skirt. She was holding onto her ribboned shepherdess crook, and she was leading a golden-fleeced lamb by a rope. The crowd clapped and whistled at her arrival.  
  
Jackie followed behind, and the crowd's focus shifted onto her. She looked stunning in her violet bodice and skirt. Michael had found her a crook in Fidelity's shed and a berry-colored ribbon for her hair. All she was missing was a sheep.   
  
Sally flashed her a dirty look, and Jackie responded with her most winning smile. The crowd applauded Jackie's move loudly. The people loved her.   
  
“What do you think you're doing?” Sally said through gritted teeth and grabbed onto Jackie's arm.   
  
Another shepherdess, a brunette wearing a garish orange bodice, took hold of her other arm.”You're not local.”   
  
The two shepherdesses walked with her toward the contestant sign-up sheet.  
  
”You little goblin,” Sally said. “Don't you dare.”  
  
No one told Jackie Burkhart what to do. She shook herself free of the bitches and wrote her name down on the sheet. 

***

All the Peeps had left the farm for the Beautiful Shepherdess Competition, which made it easy for Eric and Donna to slip into their barn. Everything inside it was as Kelso had described: the straw throne, the pulley, the brooms. Eric helped Donna harness their pathetic sheep. It was so pathetic that it didn't even _baa_ a complaint while they strapped it in.  
  
“Do you really think this is going to work?” Donna said.  
  
“Well, since Kelso's the one who came up with the idea, I give it a fifty-fifty chance.” Eric picked up a broom and swept straw away from the cellar-like doors. Then he and Donna jerked them open.   
  
Bubbles of colorful light floated into their faces, and Donna laughed as if they tickled her. He found that really alluring. Ever since he'd rescued her from the Huntsman, her attitude towards him had been much nicer. She hadn't criticized him once or mentioned the Gypsy Queen's reading—that wonderful-for-him, sucky-for-her reading. It was almost like they were friends again.  
  
Donna hoisted the sheep above the well, and a sultry female voice said, “What do you wash in my waters?”  
  
If only that had been Donna asking him.  
  
“A sheep?” Eric said.   
  
Donna sighed. “You gotta tell her more than that, Eric.”   
  
“I have to tell hermore or _you_ more?” he said.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Look, I'm sorry, all right? I'm sorry I ruined your wedding dress. I'm sorry I ruined your career plans—hell, I'm sorry I ruined your whole damn life!”   
  
“Eric!”   
  
He clamped a hand over his mouth. He was just as surprised at his words as her. The Gypsy Queen's reading, Hyde's words earlier in the forest, and all of Donna's little digs from before must have collided together in his brain and shot off his dumbass tongue.   
  
“Donna, I really am sor—”  
  
“Plug it, dillhole,” Donna said. She lowered the sheep into the water. “Oh, magic well, please turn our scrawny little lamb into a beautiful sheep.”   
  
Eric stared into the well. And as the water started to roil, he silently repeated the wish he'd made at the dried-up well.

***

Jackie, Sally Peep, and Mary Ramley—the other shepherdess who'd accosted her just moments ago—all stood in a row before the Judge. He was reading the contestant sign-up sheet.  
  
“Now we've got _three_ contestants!” he said and chuckled. “Goodness gracious me. Well, more the merrier, I say.” He looked down the line at the three of them, and his gaze landed on the empty space beside Jackie's shepherdess crook. “Where's your sheep, miss?”   
  
“Oh, it's on its way,” Jackie said. Stupid Eric. Stupid Donna. What was taking them so long?  
  
“She hasn't got one,” Sally sang.   
  
“She does, too!” Michael yelled from somewhere in the audience. “It's just in the barn— _God._ ”  
  
“Well, go and fetch him, girl,” the Judge said. “And smartish, too, else I shall have to disqualify you.”   
  
Jackie hurried away from the competition area. Damn Eric! Damn Donna! Why did they have to be so slow at everything?   
  
“Now,” the Judge's voice still reached her, “to start the competition, I'm going to ask all entrants, as is the age-old custom, to sing their favorite sheep song.”  
  
Jackie paused just outside the village square's boundary. The Judge and the competition weren't going to wait for her? Unbelievable. She crossed her arms. Stupid damn Eric and stupid damn Donna would just have to find _her._ She wasn't going to miss the chance to watch the other contestants and gain some advantage.  
  
“Young Mary Ramley, will you start us off?” the Judge said.  
  
The audience applauded, and Mary stepped onto a small stage that had been setup. A musician beside her played the first notes of “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep” on his accordion.   
  
One feeble-voiced verse was all Jackie needed to hear. She started down the road toward Fidelity's barn. If Eric and Donna weren't back yet, maybe Steven was.   
  
“Jackie!” Donna shouted behind her. “Hey, Jackie!”   
  
Jackie turned around. A gorgeous pink-fleeced sheep was squirming in Eric's grip.  
  
“Oh, my God!” Jackie said. “I love it! That is totally a mirror-winning sheep.”  
  
“Great.” Eric put the sheep down and held out its rope leash.   
  
Jackie took it. Then she said, “Donna, what sheep songs do you know?”  
  
“Um, 'Baa, Baa, Black Sheep'.”   
  
“No, she's already doing that.” Jackie led the three of them, and her Jackiesheep, back to the Square. “Eric?”  
  
“I don't know,” he said. “Just pick any song, and put sheep words to it.”  
  
Jackie groaned. “Oh, there is no way I'm going to win this thing if I have to sing. Michael's told me a thousand times that I'm as bad a singer as I am beautiful.” She shoved the sheep's leash at Eric. “I'm not going up there. I'll be humiliated in front of the whole village!”  
  
“Beulah!” Donna's strong lumberjack hands grabbed her shoulders. “If you ever want to go home again, do what you need to do to win this competition.”   
  
Jackie huffed, but she also snatched back the sheep's leash.   
  
Sally Peep had taken the stage, and Jackie expected her bodice to fly off at any moment. Her song was about Little Bo Peep, but it might as well have been about a stripper. Sally wiggled her hips provocatively, felt herself up, and she even ended the performance by giving her butt a little shake. The crowd burst into cheers and applause, but one voice stood out among it.  
  
“Rip off that bodice!” Michael shouted.   
  
_Idiot.  
  
_ The applause died down, but Sally seemed reluctant to leave the stage. _Well._ No tramp was going to outdo Jackie Burkhart.   
  
Jackie hiked up her skirt to show off her legs. Then she sashayed through the audience with her gorgeous pink sheep straight to the stage.  
  
“And now,” the Judge said, “contestant number three!”   
  
The men in the crowd, including Michael, whistled as she passed by. Eric was following behind, and he took the sheep's leash from her.  
  
“Go get 'em,” he said with a cheesy wink, “and our mirror.”  
  
Jackie climbed the stage stairs. Sally stepped off the stage at the same time and deliberately bumped into Jackie's shoulder.  
  
“Skank,” Jackie said and resisted the urge to kick her ass.   
  
Sally stomped off into the audience where her scowling family was waiting for her. Jackie ignored the Peeps' nasty stares and smiled flirtatiously at the crowd. The men seemed quite entranced by her natural glow and sparkling eyes, and she knew they sparkled because sometimes she'd get lost gazing at them in the mirror.  
  
The mirror.  
  
Jackie swallowed. The only melody in her head was ABBA's “Dancing Queen”. It would have to do.   
  
She sang:  
  
 _“You can baa, you can bleat...  
“Having the graze... of your life.  
“Sheer that ewe, sheer that... fleece,  
“Diggin' the prancing sheep...”  
  
_Her voice sounded terrible, even to her, but the crowd didn't seem to mind. Some people even hollered enthusiastically. Okay, those had been her friends, but whatever.   
  
She continued to sing, but her beautiful face and off-key voice wouldn't be enough to beat that skanky shepherdess's seduction number. She had to do something more, like... _cheer._ Jackie was a cheerleader, the sexiest cheerleader in all of Wisconsin.   
  
“Michael,” she shouted, “pom-poms!”   
  
In moments, she had two bundles of wool in her hands. She started off with a few cheerleading motions like Bow-and-Arrow and Daggers, then moved onto high kicks and back handsprings, all the while singing:  
  
 _“You're the prancing sheep, fluffy and soft, the ram of the flock.  
“Prancing sheep, feel the bleat from the ewe in heat.  
“You can prance, you can frolic, having the graze of your life.  
“Sheer that ewe, sheer that fleece, diggin' the prancing sheep.”_  
  
She ended the song with a front split.  
  
Michael was the first to whoop his approval, but he was far from the last. The crowd erupted into a frenzy of hoots and whistles and applause. The Peeps, though, glowered at her, and Sally's cheeks were as red as the apple that killed Snow White.  
  
Jackie blew kisses at the audience. Finally, she was having a good day.

***

Hyde had finally found some prospects frolicking in a pasture. Two shepherdesses were holding hands, skipping around in tight clothes he really wanted to rip off. They hadn't spotted him crouching behind the wooden fence, and the sway of their hips was so damn tempting. Nothing to do but...  
  
He rubbed his eyes. He had to keep it under control, man.  
  
The shepherdesses were skipping away from him. Their perky butts bounced underneath their skirts.  
  
He jumped the fence and chased them across the pasture.


	26. Winners and Losers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 26  
**WINNERS AND LOSERS**

“Three beautiful girls,” the Judge said, “and three beautiful lambs. This is the hardest competition to judge so far by a long chalk.”  
  
Kelso nodded. He completely agreed except for the chalk part. He didn't see any chalk—long or short—but Jackie might have finally met a rival worthy of her. That Sally Peep had to be the hottest chick in all the Nine Kingdoms, not to mention her family owned the whole of Little Lamb Village.  
  
Jackie, Sally, and Mary Ramley were all standing on the stage with their sheep. The Judge stepped in front of Mary first, and her boring white sheep bleated at him.  
  
“I give Mary eight-out-of-ten,” the Judge said, “and a well-earned third place.”  
  
The audience applauded, and Kelso clapped, too, but Mary lowered her head. She was devastated, poor kid. But he knew what would cheer her up: _Kelso Lotta Love._ He'd find her after Jackie won the mirror—or, if Sally won, after Hyde stole it.   
  
The Judge was now standing in front of Jackie's pink sheep and Sally's gold sheep. “Both these lambs are so beautiful...” He glanced back at the audience. “How do I make a decision?”   
  
“Just pick the pink one!” Kelso shouted, and Donna punched his shoulder. “It's called subliminal messaging, Donna. Damn!”  
  
“I've got to give Sally peep ten-out of ten!” the Judge said.  
  
Sally squealed like a pig—a shrieking, ear-piercing pig. Kelso had to take away five “hot” points for that, but what did it matter? She'd just gotten all the points she needed to win that mirror.  
  
“Oh, come on!” Eric said beside Kelso.  
  
“I know!” Donna said. “What are we going to do?”   
  
“I can tell you what I'm _not_ gonna do,” Kelso said. “Sally Peep. Jeez! If she screams like that over a stupid contest, imagine what she'd sound like when I—”  
  
Donna punched him again, harder than before, and Kelso rubbed the aching throb that used to be his shoulder.  
  
“How could I lose?” Jackie said. “I never lose...” Her breathing became staccato. Kelso could hear it from where he stood. It was the first sign that she was about to cry, but the Peep family—especially Larry and old Wilfred—laughed in delight. And the audience seemed to be happy, too. It was cheering and clapping louder than ever before.  
  
“But then,” the Judge shouted over the crowd's racket, “I also have to give Jackie Burkhart ten-out-of-ten as well!”  
  
“Oh, my God!” Jackie covered her mouth.  
  
“Burn!” Kelso shouted, and the crowed cheered even louder.  
  
“A tie?” Larry said. He climbed onto the stage and spoke in the Judge's face. “We can't have a tie!”   
  
“Someone has to win!” Wilfred said.  
  
“ _I_ have to win!” Sally banged her crook on the stage. “Peeps always win!”  
  
Jackie patted Sally's arm. “How about if you get the trophy, and I get the mirror?”  
  
“They're both mine!” Sally said. “She shouldn't even be allowed to take part. It's not fair!” She was in full-out tantrum mode, and it looked cute on her, but Kelso wasn't going to share that opinion with anyone. His shoulder hurt enough.  
  
“Why are you giving an outsider ten-out-of ten?” Larry Peep said. He looked like he wanted to knock the Judge's teeth in, but it was Wilfred's demeanor that made Kelso take a step back.   
  
“She's a dirty cheat.” Wilfred was speaking low, like a growling dog. “Give the prize to my girl.”  
  
Larry stepped even closer to the Judge.  
  
“Back off!” The Judge pushed Larry away. “Back off, I said!” Then he got off the stage. “Look! This is a shepherdess competition. We set up an obstacle course, and whoever guides her sheep to the pen in the shortest time is the winner, using only sheep dogs and commands.” He was staring directly at Wilfred and Larry now. “Sound fair enough?”  
  
“Yeah, all right,” Wilfred said.  
  
“No!” Jackie raised her crook. “I don't have a sheep dog.”  
  
“'Spect I'll win then, won't I?” Sally said. Wilfred and Larry both laughed.  
  
Jackie looked over at Kelso, but he didn't have a dog to throw her.  
  
“Damn! Where are gonna find a sheep dog?” Kelso said.  
  
“Excuse me, man.” Leo was standing next to him. He smelled like he'd bathed in a huge stash.  
  
Kelso put a hand on Leo's shoulder. “Not now, okay? I'm trying to think here.”  
  
“You've got a dog, man,” Leo said.  
  
“We don't have a dog,” Eric said.  
  
“Yes, we do.” Donna patted Fez's golden back.  
  
“I don't know if you've noticed, Donna,” Eric said, “but Fez is a freakin' statue!”   
  
“No, wait, this could work!” Kelso pulled Leo into a hug. “You're a genius!” Then he started to roll Fez away.  
  
“Kelso, where are you going?” Donna called after him.  
  
“To get Fez back!”

***

Fez went into the harness above the Peeps' diverted well without argument. He really was easier to deal with all gold and stiff, but Kelso missed hearing his needy, foreign voice inside his head. They'd made it to the Peep's barn in under fifteen minutes, and they probably had fifteen more to get back to the competition in time. The obstacle course wove itself through the whole village.  
  
Colorful sparkles drifted into Kelso's face as he lowered Fez into the water.  
  
“Magic wishing well,” Kelso said, “please use your magic stuff—uh, water—to bring my dog-friend here back to life from his golden body. And maybe throw him a bone, too. Give him a really big di—”   
  
“Oh, no. Not another one.” The well's voice still sounded sexy. “The last two were bad enough.”  
  
“Hey, baby,” Kelso said, “I'm nothing like those two. I'm freakin' gorgeous.”   
  
The well didn't say anything more, but its waters did start to churn. Kelso smiled in satisfaction— _ oh, yeah, he still had it— _ and he stood back and waited.

***

Jackie and Sally stood by the pen at the end of the obstacle course, and Jackie kept glancing behind her as if, by some miracle, a sheep dog would magically appear.  
  
“You've seen the course,” the Judge said. A large, wooden stop clock sat behind him. “Each girl can only use her shepherding skills with her dog. Sally, are you ready?”   
  
The skank nodded.  
  
“Starting now!” The Judge pushed a button on the clock's housing, and the timer started to run.   
  
Sally whistled loudly and with different rhythms. These had to be commands, but Jackie couldn't see the golden-fleeced sheep or Sally's sheep dog yet. Even so, it was only a matter of time.   
  
Jackie glanced behind her again. Where the hell was a Fairy Godmother when a girl needed one?  
  
  


***

Kelso hoisted the rope attached to Fez's harness. “Come on,” he said. “Don't be gold, don't be gold, don't be—”  
  
Fez was still gold.  
  
“Damn it!” Kelso lowered the harness to the barn floor. Then he kicked a broom straight into Wilfred Peep's straw throne.

***

Jackie cursed. Sally Peep's mutt had chased her golden-fleeced sheep to the end of the obstacle course.   
  
Sally shut the gate. “Pen's closed!”  
  
“Done in a splendid count of eighty-five!” the Judge said.   
  
The audience applauded. The Peeps all cheered, and Sally tossed Jackie a look that said, “Beat that, bitch.”  
  
Jackie cursed again. Oh, how she wanted to beat that bitch.

***

Kelso crouched in front of Fez's still-frozen body. “Come on, boy. Come on!” He grabbed a sliver of wood off the floor, “Look Fez,” and hurled it across the barn. “Fetch!”  
  
The gold of Fez's front paws shimmered. Then it turned to dust and revealed brown fur underneath.  
  
“No way!” Kelso watched excitedly while the rest of the gold fell off Fez's body like dandruff. “All right!”   
  
Fez shook his doggy head as if he'd just gotten wet.  
  
“Welcome back, buddy!” Kelso opened his arms for a hug, but Fez ran at him and chomped his shin. “Ow!” Kelso toppled onto a pile of straw and cradled his wounded leg.  
  
“You idiot,” Fez said. “Why did you turn me into gold?”  
  
“I didn't mean to! I was trying to save you from those Trolls!”  
  
“You were?”   
  
“Yeah!” Kelso rolled up the leg of his jeans. His skin was bleeding but not too badly.   
  
Fez nuzzled against Kelso's side. “Oh, Kelso. I could never stay mad at you.”  
  
“Fez, I know we're close and all, but do not start licking me.” Kelso scratched him behind the ears. “Oh—wait! I need your help.”  
  
“If it involves candy,” Fez said, “then I am in.”  
  
“And if it doesn't?” Kelso said.  
  
“Eh. Still in.”

***

“Time starts now!” The Judge started the timer.  
  
“Come on, lamb!” Jackie shouted. She couldn't whistle like Sally, and she couldn't see her sheep either. “This is Jackie Burkhart speaking to you. I order you to go inside the pen!”   
  
She sounded pathetic; she knew it. And she knew Sally knew it, too. She kept trying anyway.   
  
“Come on, lamby! Come on!” Jackie stomped her foot. “Get your fluffy ass in that pen. _Now!_ ”  
  
No sheep. Wilfred and Larry Peep were laughing at her.   
  
“Going up to thirty!” the Judge said.  
  
She continued to yell even though it was hopeless. She tried every kind of voice she had: her pouty one that used to work so well on Steven; her commanding one that still worked on Michael; the coaxing one she used on Daddy in childhood; and finally, the desperate, pleading one she'd used on Steven before she left for Chicago.   
  
Still no sheep. That last voice hadn't worked on Steven either.  
  
Jackie began to whistle, weakly.   
  
“Aw, tough luck,” Sally said next to her, “or cheese. Looks like Sally is the winner.”  
  
“Coming up to fifty!” the Judge said.  
  
Jackie looked at the sky to keep from crying, but the bright blue of it reminded her of Steven. She returned her attention to the course and caught a flash of pink. Her eyes widened.. Her pink-fleeced sheep was running towards her—and it was being chased by a chocolate lab.  
  
“Fez?” She gasped. “Oh, my God—Fez!”   
  
“Where'd he come from?” Sally's voice was a whiny squeak.  
  
Jackie clapped her hands. “Go, Fez, go!”   
  
Her sheep sped away from Fez the way girls usually did, but Fez pursued it nimbly.  
  
“Coming up to seventy!” the Judge said.  
  
Fez and the sheep rounded a corner. Only a short stretch of ground was left between them and the pen.  
  
“Count of eighty,” the Judge said.  
  
Jackie stepped beside the pen's wooden gate.  
  
“Eighty-one.”  
  
Fez nosed the sheep's butt, and the sheep scooted inside the pen.  
  
“Eighty-two.”  
  
“Pen's closed!” Jackie said.  
  
“Eighty-three!” the Judge shouted. “Jackie the Shepherdess is this year's winner!” He smiled as widely as Jackie felt herself doing. The crowd's applause hurt her ears, but it was a good pain—the pain of victory.  
  
Jackie clutched her crook and jumped up and down. She looked over at Donna and Eric, who had grabbed each other and were also jumping up and down.   
  
“No! No! No!” Sally squealed behind her.   
  
Jackie knelt down and pet Fez. She had never been so happy to see him.  
  
“Come and get your prize, lass,” the Judge said. He held out a silver trophy. The smile on his face hadn't left him.  
  
Michael appeared from around a corner of the obstacle course and gave Jackie a cheesy grin. Then he and Eric walked to the Judge with her. Jackie took her trophy, and the crowd continued to cheer while Michael and Eric picked up the mirror.   
  
“Thank you, Little Lamb Village!” Michael said.  
  
“It was a team effort,” Eric said. “No one person could do it. See ya later.” He and Michael carried the mirror away.   
  
“Congratulations...” Donna squeezed Jackie's shoulders in a one-armed hug, “Jackie Shepherdess.”   
  
Jackie gazed at her silver trophy. “I really do win at everything!”   
  
“NO!” Sally stomped up to her grandfather Wilfred, probably to complain about her devastating defeat.  
  
Jackie rolled her eyes. She'd made less of a fuss when she lost Miss Dairy Princess—and that was saying something. 

***

Hyde had gone from farm-to-farm in search of some tail, but his head was still so foggy he couldn't remember if he'd gotten any. He wanted to say yes. He was definitely tired enough to justify that assumption, and yet he didn't feel satisfied. As it was, he didn't know what farm he was on now or whether he'd hit it already.   
  
He leaned against an apple tree and switched his answer to no. The apples were huge, man, like red balloons. Why hadn't the tree floated into the sky? It had so many balloons, man! If he ate one, would he float into a cloud? Or was _he_ a cloud? His legs did feel kind of— _crap._   
  
That Dwarf moss was screwing with him bad.   
  
Hyde shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Then he rested his hands on his belt buckle, only there was no buckle. Or belt. They were gone. His fingers were clutching at open air.   
  
Maybe he really had gotten some action. He tried to remember, and...   
  
He couldn't, and... he still couldn't. Especially not with that flushed-face chick crying near him. _Sally Peep._ She was trudging across the field as though she'd just lost a sheep. She needed consoling. And what was the best way to console a hot, pissed-off shepherdess?  
  
Hyde waited until she passed by his tree. Then he—he... _damn it._ He was so freakin' tired, man. He slapped his cheeks a few times, but that only made the fog in his skull grow more dense. Leo should've warned him better.  
  
Sally was getting away—screw it. Hyde pushed himself off the tree and followed.

***

Steven wasn't waiting for them at Fidelity's barn like Jackie had hoped. And no one else seemed to notice. They were all focused on the mirror, which Eric and Michael had put against a beam.  
  
“Come on, come on, come on,” Eric said and tapped the mirror's glass. “Why isn't it showing Wisconsin?”  
  
Donna shook her head. “I don't know.”   
  
“I was talking to Fez... Kelso?”  
  
“He says because it's not turned on,” Michael said. Then he pushed Eric out of the way and gazed at his own reflection. “Hey, baby.” He was pursing his lips like Mick Jagger and speaking in that voice he thought was so sexy, but _so wasn't._ “How about you and me take a roll in the hay?”  
  
“Kelso,” Donna shoved him aside, “I don't think that's what Fez meant. There's got to be a switch somewhere.” Her hands inspected the tarnished mirror frame. “How'd you get through in the first place, Fez?”  
  
“He says he fell on it,” Michael said.  
  
“Okay, it can't be that hard to find a switch.” Eric tried to get in front of the mirror, but Donna wouldn't let him. “Hey, didn't you fail Switches 101 in college?”  
  
“Eric, will you shut—” Donna turned a piece of the frame shaped like a Celtic triskele. A bright light rippled across the mirror's glass and then dissolved away into—“That's Mount Hump!”  
  
The images became sharper, and Jackie felt a warm ache inside her chest. She hadn't realized how much she missed Point Place, despite what was—or wasn't—waiting for her there. She reached toward the mirror. Then someone screamed.   
  
_Wolf! Wolf!  
  
_ It was a woman's scream. Jackie's stomach clenched, but she dashed out of the barn with Donna and Eric.  
  
A farmer ran halfway down the road across from them. “Sally Peep's been murdered!” he shouted. He was breathing heavily, turning this way and that as other villagers gathered to his side.  
  
Behind him, a crowd of people—mostly Peeps—were hauling someone toward the village square.  
  
“We've got him!” someone said. “We've got him!”  
  
Whoever they were dragging was in rough shape and getting worse by the second. Farmers kept punching him and kicking him, and they beat him with pitchforks.  
  
And then Jackie saw his scruffy face. _Steven._ Steven was the one being pummeled. He fought against the Peeps' hold on him, but he didn't have a chance.  
  
“Burn him!” a villager said. “Burn the wolf!”  
  
“Get away from him!” Jackie shouted. She wanted to charge into the crowd, to get to Steven, but someone—Donna—held her back. “Get off me!”   
  
Jackie elbowed her and got loose, but the crowd had swelled with so many farmers and villagers that she couldn't see him anymore. They all seemed to be carrying a pitchfork or a plank of wood—anything they could find to hurt her Steven.  
  
“Caught him red-handed!” a farmer shouted. “The murdering bastard.”  
  
“Burn the wolf!” someone said, and others joined in. “Burn the wolf! Burn the wolf!” It became a chant.  
  
Jackie glimpsed Steven's face again through a small gap in the crowd. His sunglasses were missing. His eyes were naked, and she saw them only briefly, but they told her enough.  
  
Steven Hyde was afraid.


	27. Crucible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

 CHAPTER 27  
 **CRUCIBLE**

Steven had been allowed one visitor. He'd asked for her.  
  
Jackie stood outside his jail cell. It was more like a zoo cage with its thick wooden bars. One side of the cell was exposed to the outside so villagers could occasionally throw produce at at him. Most of them passed by without hurling any vegetables, though. Their arms were full with something far more menacing: bundles of sticks for a bonfire.  
  
Steven was sitting hunched on a stool, and he kept his face toward the ground. He'd barely moved when she arrived.  
  
“Steven, what happe—”  
  
“Jackie, you need to go home, okay?” His voice was soft and low. “Get that mirror any way you can and go home.”  
  
“We have the mirror already,” Jackie said. “I won it. I was great. I did this cute little cheer routine that the audience went crazy over, and...”   
  
She stopped. Steven's life was in danger, and all she could think to do was ramble on about herself? No wonder he didn't believe she loved him.  
  
“Did you do the little move,” he said, “where you flip up your skirt and show your ass?” He was smiling. She could hear it.  
  
“No. That one's only for you. Steven, look at me. Please?”  
  
He rubbed his face against his sleeve and then raised his head. His skin was blotchy, and his eyes were red, but that could've been from the battering he'd gotten from the crowd of villagers or...  
  
“It's not what you think,” he said. “I had one hell of a circle with Leo last night. Almost killed me.”  
  
“Steven...” Jackie clutched the bars of the cell, but he didn't budge from the stool.  
  
“Go home, Jackie.”   
  
“And leave you here to burn? I don't think so.”   
  
“Oh, yeah?” Finally, Steven stood up and went to the bars. His hands closed around hers. “And you're gonna do—what? Another cheer routine to convince these whacked-out farmers I'm not a freakin' wolf? That I'm not a murderer? Even if you showed them your ass this time, it wouldn't do shit. These guys are out for blood, man. Mine.” He let go of her hands and stepped backward. “I'm totally screwed, but there's no point in you or Forman or any of you getting screwed along with me. So take your cute little ass through that mirror, and don't look back, all right?”   
  
“Okay,” she said.   
  
“Thank you.” He sat back down on the stool.  
  
“After I save your hot ass from becoming even hotter.”  
  
“Jackie!” Steven shouted, but she was already on her way.

***

Kelso sat on a hay bale and gazed at Mount Hump in all its humping glory. The image of it in the mirror was sharper than it would've been on TV. He could even see a couple making out on the grass.   
  
“That's home, Fez,” he said, but it was halfhearted. He still didn't know what he was going to do with himself when he got back. Except for his daughter, what would he have there? The captain had probably kicked him off the force by now for his disappearing act. And much, _much_ worse—he was gonna have to move to Europe if he ever wanted to have sex again. Stupid freakin' wishes.  
  
“Ai, no, Kelso, you cannot go home yet,” Fez said. “I am still a lowly dog whose kingdom is at the mercy of a sexy Evil Queen, and poor Hyde! He is about to get burned at the stake!”  
  
“Don't worry, buddy.” Kelso patted Fez's head. “That's not gonna happen. I'm not going anywhere until you're a dude again, I've nailed that hot Evil Queen, and I've figured out how to save Hy—”  
  
Jackie ran into the barn. Eric and Donna, who'd been brooding in separate corners, converged on her.  
  
“How's Hyde?” Donna said.  
  
“Is he still alive?” Eric said.   
  
“Steven's...” Jackie hesitated, “okay. But he's about to get a whole lot better.”  
  
“How?” Eric and Donna said together.  
  
“Did the Judge agree to let him have a conjugal visit?” Kelso said.   
  
“No. I, Jacqueline Beu—Burkhart, agreed to represent him.”  
  
Kelso looked passed Jackie's shoulder. “Represent him where?”   
  
“In the village court, you idiot!”   
  
“You?” Eric laughed. “You're going to be Hyde's lawyer?”  
  
Jackie fluffed her hair. “My dad's an attorney.”  
  
“Who's in jail for bribery!” Eric said.  
  
“Don't listen to him,” Donna said. “I think it's a great idea.”  
  
“Thank you, Donna.”   
  
“Hey, guys, help me hide this thing.” Kelso turned off the mirror. Then he and Eric heaved it onto an old wagon already covered in hay.   
  
As they brushed hay over the mirror, Eric whispered, “You really think Jackie'll get Hyde off?”   
  
Kelso clapped Eric's shoulder.. “Dude, I pretty much guarantee it.”

***

Jackie left the Judge's chambers and climbed down the courthouse stairs. She was wearing a black robe and an itchy wool wig, and she held a parchment folder containing her defense strategy. Watching her father work at the office those few times had taught her a lot.   
  
“What are you wearing?” Michael said when she reached the first floor. “You look ridicu—ow!” Donna had jabbed him in the arm.  
  
“I have to wear it,” Jackie said. “The Judge briefed me on my duties as Steven's attorney, which include wearing this throwback to the American Revolution.”  
  
“Jackie,” Eric tapped her parchment folder, “are you sure you can handle this? I mean, you don't know anything about the laws here.”  
  
“I know all I need to know,” she said. “Steven may be guilty of many things, but murder isn't one of them. Justice will prevail—and so will I.”  
  
A door slammed open behind them. A moment later, two guards pushed Steven toward her in shackles. He looked exhausted.  
  
“Who needs a trial?” he said. “It's over, man. The jury here is a bunch of sheep.”  
  
Jackie patted him on the arm. “You say that about everyone, Steven.”  
  
“But they're really sheep!” he said.  
  
“Yeah, yeah. The government is a bunch of sheep, the citizenry is a bunch of sheep.” She opened the door to the courtroom. “Any jury can be swayed. All you need is the right argu—”  
  
Her tongue went dead in her mouth. Twelve sheep, twelve musty sheep bleated at her from the jury box.  
  
“Oh, my God,” she said. “They're—”  
  
“I told you, man!” Steven said.  
  
The gallery was stuffed to the ceiling with Peeps, and they jeered as soon as Steven entered the courtroom. Jackie took her place at the defense table. The guards shoved Steven into a small holding pen behind her.  
  
“Good luck,” Donna whispered. She found an unoccupied spot in the gallery and sat there with Eric, Michael, and Fez.  
  
“All rise for the honorable Judge,” the court clerk said.  
  
The Peeps were already standing and muttering, “Burn the wolf. Burn the wolf.” Jackie wanted to scream at them to shut up, but she held her breath.  
  
The Judge took his seat at the bench. “It gives me no great pleasure to sentence this wolf to death,” he said, and the sheep in the jury box bleated, “for the terrible crime of—”  
  
Jackie slapped the defense table. “Objection, Your Honor. We haven't heard any evidence yet.”  
  
“Oh,” the Judge said. “All right. Move it a long nice and brisk, eh?” He leaned back in his chair.  
  
“Lady-ewes and gentle-rams of the jury,” Jackie said, facing the sheep, but it was the Judge and the gallery of Peeps she was actually addressing, “before you leave this courtroom today, I will not only have proved my client's innocence beyond any reasonable doubt, but also unmasked the real killer, and—” she turned to Steven with a hand on her heart, “proved my love.”   
  
Steven cringed. “I am so dead.”   
  
“Just a pot of lemon tea,” the Judge said to the court clerk, “and a piece of Rosie Peep's ginger cake.”  
  
Jackie resisted the urge to kick the bench. The Judge wasn't taking this seriously at all.   
  
She'd just have to make him take it seriously.   
  
“Look at this scruffy, no-longer-poor, former orphan before you.” Jackie went to Steven and placed her hand atop his head. He tried to shake her off, but she twisted her fingers into his soft curls. “Is he a wolf? No.” She looked right into his eyes. “Is he a prince? Hell, no—but he _is_ a stranger. And stranger equals wolf, and wolf equals killer—is that what we're saying?”   
  
Steven nodded, but the sheep jury merely went _baa._  
  
“Very well put!” the Judge said. “Now to the sentencing.”  
  
The Peeps shouted their endorsement, but Jackie interrupted them.  
  
“Your Honor, I'm only just beginning.” She walked up to the bench. “I'd like to call my first witness: Wilfred Peep.”   
  
The old Peep flushed red, but he stepped inside the witness box without argument.   
  
“You saw my client walking away from the scene of the crime,” Jackie said, “is that right?”  
  
“Clear as daylight.” Wilfred pointed at Steven. “It was him.”  
  
The gallery erupted in more jeers. Even the Judge got caught in the moment and shouted, “That's him!”  
  
“Burn him! Burn him!” Wilfred said.  
  
Jackie glanced back at Steven. His face was expressionless. Zen.  
  
“Mr. Peep,” she said over the noise of the gallery, “I wonder if you can read this.” She handed him a card.  
  
Wilfred squinted. “Of course I can. It says, 'No trespassing according t—'”  
  
She snatched the card from him, “Thank you,” and moved across the room and up into the first level of the gallery. “I wonder if you can read it now,” she raised the card high above her head, “at the same distance you say you clearly saw my Stev—my client running away from the murder scene.”  
  
“'—according to Little Lamb Village Council ruling number 714, being filed: bylaw 21-A'” Wilfred continued 'reading' the card even after Jackie had pulled it away. He knew that ruling by heart, the bastard.  
  
“No further questions!” Jackie said.  
  
The Peeps in the gallery laughed uproariously. Then they started to chant,  
  
 _Burn him! Burn him! Burn him!_  
  
Jackie looked over at Steven, and he shrugged in response. She still hated when he did that, but he didn't have to know what do to this time. She hadn't run out of ideas... yet.

***

Kelso had to hand it to Jackie. She was giving Hyde her best shot, but it wouldn't be enough. This crowd was totally biased against him. The Judge seemed to be, too—and that sheep jury? At least half of 'em were giving Hyde the stink-eye. The other half just stank of damp wool.  
  
Kelso leaned close to Fez and said, “We gotta do something to help him.”  
  
“I would love to,” Fez said, “but what can we do?”  
  
“Nothing here, buddy.” Kelso stood up. “Let's go sleuthing.”  
  
Fez wagged his tail. “What is sleuthing?”   
  
“It's cop-speak for gettin' the goods on the real bad guy. Come on.”  
  
Kelso and Fez moved past Donna and Eric, who gave them questioning looks.   
  
“What are you doing?” Eric whispered.   
  
“Protecting what's mine,” Kelso whispered back. “This village thinks it's gonna burn Hyde? N'uh-uh. I called dibs on that in first grade.”   
  
“Kelso!” Donna said, but Kelso had no time to argue. He and Fez were already climbing down the gallery stairs. They made it to the courtroom door, then to the courthouse door, and dashed outside.

***

Jackie called Betty Peep to the stand. She was the other skank who'd approached Steven at the Baa-Bar. She looked younger than Jackie by a few years and was wearing a powder blue coat that clashed with her tanned skin.  
  
“Ms. Peep,” Jackie said, “what is your profession?”  
  
“I'm a shepherdess,” Betty Peep said with an overly sweet smile.   
  
“Oh... 'shepherdess'?” Jackie flashed a smile just as sweet. “Or slutty temptress?” She glanced back at Steven, who nodded his agreement.   
  
“I'm a good girl!” Betty Peep said. “That wolf came up to us girls, and he kept trying to touch us—” Jackie snorted her contempt, but Betty continued, “ _and show us his tail._ ”   
  
“That's not true, man!” Steven shouted. It was the first break in his Zen since the trial started. “They tried to rip off my pants.”  
  
The gallery booed and shouted curses at him.  
  
“Ms. Peep!” Jackie shouted over them. “Ms. Peep, I suggest that you and Sally Peep were the easiest shepherdesses in Little Lamb Village!”   
  
Now the gallery booed and shouted curses at Jackie, although some of the shepherdesses watching the trial covered their mouths and giggled.  
  
The Judge leaned forward on the bench. “Are you suggesting that an innocent young girl from this village might kiss a man before she's married?”  
  
“No, I'm suggesting she might blow and screw a man before she's married,” Jackie said.  
  
“Don't try my patience,” the Judge said. “You are just this far from being thrown on the bonfire with that filthy, murdering wolf!”   
  
Jackie backed off from the bench and sat down at the defense table. Her heart beat painfully fast, and stealing a glimpse at Steven did nothing to calm down her pulse. Everything in his face was Zen but his eyes. She didn't like what they were telling her: _You should've gone home when you had the chance._

_***_

Kelso and Fez went directly to the Peeps' farm where Sally was murdered. Her outline had been marked in chalk on a patch of dirt, and Fez was sniffing at it.  
  
“What do you smell?” Kelso said.  
  
“Well, let me put it to you this way,” Fez said, “I smell shit. Lots and lots of shit.”  
  
Kelso scratched his chin and stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth. That was his thinking face. He'd used it all the time at the police academy, and the other cadets knew not to bother him when he looked that way.  
  
“You could've really used that sniffer when were back in Point Place, huh? You wouldn't have had to taste so many things from the Formans' basement floor.” Kelso nodded in satisfaction. It was a brilliant deduction.  
  
“Yes,” Fez said and continued to sniff around the outline. “There are so many scents here. Why can't one of them be candy?”   
  
Kelso studied the outline's shapely hips. “You know, it's a real shame Sally was murdered. She was the hottest chick I'd ever seen, and I didn't even get a chance to do it with her.”  
  
“And I did not even get a chance to see her, you son of a— ” Fez stopped sniffing. “I smelled something!”   
  
“Whoa!” Kelso put his hands up defensively. “It wasn't me. Whoever smelt it dealt it!”  
  
“Not that, you idiot!” Fez sped off toward the center of the Peeps' farm. “Something that could help Hyde!”  
  
“Oh!” Kelso said. “Wait up!”   
  
Fez was fast. He'd already reached the edge of one of the Peeps' sheep pastures before Kelso even started to run.   
  
“Man, I wish I had four legs,” Kelso said and followed Fez as fast as his two legs could go.

***

Jackie called Steven to the witness stand. If anyone could handle the pressure of cross-examination, it was him—but as his attorney, she got to question him first. The Judge swore him in, and Jackie decided to ask Steven the easy questions first.  
  
“Did you kill Sally Peep?”  
  
“No,” Steven said.  
  
“Where were you when Sally Peep was murdered?”  
  
“Snoring under an apple tree.”  
  
“Was this on the Peeps' farm? Jackie said.  
  
“I have no clue. All farms look alike, man.”   
  
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you still love me?”   
  
Steven stared at her as if she'd lost her mind.  
  
“Answer the question,” she said. “You're under oath.”   
  
“Jackie!” His eyes widened. He was pissed. She didn't care.  
  
“Ms. Burkhart,” the Judge said, “what relevance does that question have as to this wolf's guilt?”  
  
“Nada,” Steven said.  
  
“Everything, Your Honor,” Jackie said.  
  
The Judge shook his head. “I'm sorry, but you'll have to move onto another line of questioning. The accused's feelings for you bear no significance here.”   
  
“Fine.” She crossed her arms. “Steven, why do you believe I don't love you?”   
  
“Ms. Burkhart, I'm warning you. If you do not move on now, I'll—”  
  
“No further questions, Your Honor,” she said quickly.  
  
“All right then. I shall begin my cross-examination.” The Judge leaned forward on the bench. “Mr. Hyde, how would you describe Sally Peep?”  
  
Jackie should have objected, but she wanted to hear his answer.  
  
Steven shrugged. “I don't know, man. She was blonde, had a nice rack—”  
  
The Judge's face twisted with contempt.  
  
“—of lamb,” Steven covered. “She smelled a little like wool.”  
  
“So you got close enough to smell her, eh?” the Judge said.  
  
“Well, yeah. She basically shoved her body down my throat.”  
  
“She was asking for it,” the Judge said, “is that what you're saying?”  
  
Steven grinned. It was the mischievous one Jackie loved, the one he wore when he burned her. Not the post-breakup burns, but the special girlfriend burns that were his way of telling her he was happy with her. Happier than he'd ever been. He grinned like that now—and he _so_ should not have been grinning like that now.  
  
“She was asking for it, all right,” Steven said. “She wanted me to nail her so bad—all those shepherdess-chicks did, and... crap.” His grin collapsed. “You didn't mean—you meant— _crap!_ ”  
  
Jackie wrinkled her nose in confusion. Steven usually had the mental reflexes of a champion chess player. He should've been a better witness, but he was acting the way he normally did after he'd...  
  
“He's suffering from post-circle dumbassery, Your Honor,” she said. “He smoked some Dwar—”  
  
The Judge cut her off. “The night before the murder, there was a henhouse homicide resulting in the death of ten chickens.” He was glaring at Steven. “Anything to do with you?”  
  
“Nope,” Steven said.  
  
“You didn't kill those chickens?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“You didn't go near the henhouse?”  
  
“Uh...” Steven glanced behind him, and the Peeps in the gallery scowled back, “no.”  
  
“Then how do you explain this?” The Judge pulled Steven's sunglasses from behind the bench. A feather was stuck to one of the lenses.   
  
Jackie suddenly felt very cold.   
  
“These eye-concealing spectacles were recovered from inside he Peeps' chicken coop,” the Judge said. “I have twenty witnesses who say they saw you wearing them earlier.”   
  
“Oh.” Steven huffed out a breath. “ _Those_ chickens.”  
  
“What the hell did you do, Steven?” Jackie clenched her fists but pressed them into her sides to keep from pounding him.   
  
“I let 'em out.” He was grinning again. “Thought it'd be funny 'cause—well, I can't actually remember why it was funny, but I sure laughed a lot.”  
  
“And then you killed Sally Peep,” the Judge said.  
  
“No way, man. Chasing those chickens around was good stuff, but I didn't kill 'em. And I didn't kill that chick—Sally—either. Hell, I didn't even get to first base with her.”  
  
“Then why did you lie?” the Judge said.  
  
“Yes, Steven,” Jackie said, “why _did_ you lie?”  
  
“Because if I copped to messing with those chickens, you'd think I messed with the chick, too.”  
  
The Judge nodded. “That is exactly what we think.”   
  
The Peeps roared their agreement. They slammed their fists on the gallery's dividers, and some went back to chanting _Burn the wolf!_  
  
“He didn't do it!” Donna yelled from the top of the gallery. “He didn't do it!”   
  
Jackie used her loudest, most shrill voice. “Of course he didn't do it!” That shut the Peeps' pieholes. “Of course he didn't do it,” she repeated softly. “But if he didn't kill Sally Peep, then who did? I hear myself asking... myself. ” She had no idea what she was saying, but she was going to keep talking until she did. She was good at that. “Because...” she took a breath, “the time has come...” she took another breath, “for me to point what used to be a perfectly manicured finger at the real killer because...” she took yet another breath, and then then she had the answer, “ _last night there was another man walking around as a wolf!_ ”   
  
Steven seemed to know what she was talking about because he gave her two thumbs-up.  
  
“Yes!” She laughed in the delight of her realization. “The man in the wolf mask is the real killer!” Then she placed a hand on Steven's shoulder. “And that murdering son of a bitch is the one who should be on this witness stand now.”  
  
“The honor of playing the wolf in the annual fair has always gone to an unimpeachable member of our society,” the Judge said.  
  
“I don't care,” Jackie said. “Bring the bastard in, let me cross-examine him, and I promise we'll have our killer.”  
  
The Judge continued. “When that honor was bestowed upon me last week, I was only too happy to accept.”  
  
Jackie backed up into the defense table. The Judge. It had to be the damn Judge in that wolf's head.   
  
“I am totally sorry, Your Honor,” she said.  
  
Something cold and wet hit her face. Then green, damp leaves rained down on her and Steven. The Peeps were throwing lettuce at them and cursing.   
  
Jackie's breath caught in her chest. She'd done her best not to cry this whole time, and she did her best not to start now. The curses being screamed at her didn't matter. The lettuce bits getting stuck in her hair and clothes didn't matter. All that mattered was Steven... and she'd failed him.


	28. Combustion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

 CHAPTER 28 **  
COMBUSTION**

“So what if this is where Sally came from? So what?” Kelso said. He was annoyed. Fez had brought him to the Peeps' barn, but of course Sally's scent was there. She'd been there two nights ago for her eighteenth birthday. “I don't know what you'll think you'll find he—”   
  
He stopped talking. He stopped moving. A pile of broken wood, dirt, and straw lay on top of where the diverted well had been—no. That _was_ the well. Someone had completely trashed it.   
  
Fez was sniffing at the straw.   
  
“Would you get your nose outta there?” Kelso said. That jury of sheep was sure to convict Hyde unless they took pity on a fellow curly-hair, and he very much doubted they would. “We gotta gather more evidence.”  
  
“I found it!” Fez's head popped up, and he ran to the barn door.  
  
“Found what?”   
  
“A new scent. Let's go.”   
  
“Good job, Fez,” Kelso said. He followed his doggy partner outside. “We're getting closer. Hyde's gonna be a free man yet!”

***

The courtroom was finally quiet, save for the occasional bleating of sheep. Jackie wanted to tell those woolly idiots to shut it, but there was no point. Two pens had been set up on either side of the jury box. One had a “Not Guilty” sign over it, the other a “Guilty” sign. A bailiff was busy piling something in the “Guilty” pen, but Jackie couldn't see what it was.   
  
“Members of the jury,” the Judge said, “you have heard the evidence, most of it quite ridiculous.”   
  
“Some of it!” Eric shouted from the gallery.  
  
“Now those who believe Mr. Hyde innocent,” the Judge continued, “all go into the left-hand pen.”   
  
Another bailiff opened the gate to the jury box.  
  
“Those who know him to be guilty, go into the right-hand pen.”   
  
The bailiff who'd been inside the “Guilty” pen was now gone. Jackie gasped at what he had left there.  
  
“The right-hand pen is filled with food!” she said, but the Judge ignored her.   
  
“Of course it is,” Steven said behind her. “What did I tell you? Governments are corrupt everywhere, man. There's justice for no one nowhere.”  
  
Jackie slumped against the defense table. Every single sheep walked into the “Guilty” pen, the pigs.  
  
“Huh.” Steven's voice was low. “Guess that Gypsy was right. A girl's dead, and now I'm gonna burn.”  
  
Jackie reached for his hand. He didn't seem to notice, but she laced her fingers between his anyway.  
  
“By a unanimous verdict,” the Judge said, “I pronounce you guilty of murder most heinous. I sentence you to be burned at the stake!”   
  
Someone was screaming the word “No!” It took Jackie a moment to realize it was her.  
  
“Let's do it right before the Marvelous Marrow contest.” The Judge's demeanor had completely shifted from one of rage to light frivolity.   
  
Jackie threw off her wool wig. “Objection, Your Honor! This is total sheep shit!”   
  
No listened to her. Two guards grabbed Steven's arms. She wanted to kick them in the balls, jump on their backs, do anything to get them off him—but that only would've led to her being tossed on the bonfire, too. Instead, she watched helplessly as they dragged him out of the courtroom. 

***

Outside the courthouse, the guards unlocked Hyde's cuffs and handed him off to the two Peeps who'd been waiting for him there: Larry and Colin. They grasped Hyde's arms before he could even throw a punch. Then they pulled him toward the village square as a mob of Peeps and villagers swarmed behind.  
  
A wooden stake had been set up next to Felicity Peep's flower shop. The bundles of twigs he'd seen villagers carrying earlier were being used as kindling. Hyde fought their grip on him, but Larry and Colin hoisted him onto the mound of twigs and shoved him against the stake.  
  
“Steven!” Jackie yelled from somewhere in the mob. He didn't want her here—or Forman, or any of his other friends. This wasn't something they should have to see.  
  
Larry and Colin tied him tightly to the stake. The rope bit into his wrists and stomach, but that would quit bothering him soon.  
  
“No!” Jackie was screaming, and Hyde finally spotted her. She was being held back by two villagers.  
  
“Jackie,” he shouted, “get outta here!”   
  
“Shut up, you murdering wolf!” Wilfred Peep struck Hyde across the face with a heavy branch then threw it onto the mound of kindling.   
  
Villagers waved their pitchforks and chanted, “Burn the wolf! Burn the wolf!” The words blended into each other, and Hyde stared up at the sky. No one in his family had ever earned a death sentence before. His mother would've been proud.   
  
_ Burn the wolf! Burn the wolf! Burn the wo— _   
  
Everyone suddenly fell silent. The Judge had arrived. A man carrying a long torch trailed him.  
  
“You can't do this!” Jackie struggled against the villagers who held her, but they didn't let her get close to the Judge. “You haven't given him a fair trial!”  
  
“Jackie, don't waste your breath,” Hyde said. “I'm not worth it.”  
  
She looked at him. Her tears didn't surprise him, but what else he found in her eyes did. He turned his face away. It was too late now.   
  
The Judge had taken the torch, and he gave it to Wilfred. “Seems only right to let the family do it, Wilf,” the Judge said.   
  
A group of shepherdesses nodded at one another as though they approved the choice.   
  
“I'll burn him.” The old Peep bastard smiled and leaned down with the torch. Jackie screamed uselessly at him while the torch flame inched closer to the kindling.   
  
“Stop! Wait!”  
  
Hyde peered into the crowd. Kelso was shoving his way through the villagers frantically.   
  
“Stop! Stop! Stop!”   
  
Kelso made it to Wilfred Peep and yanked up the old man's wrist. The torch rose away from the kindling.   
  
“Hyde didn't kill Sally Peep,” Kelso said, “and I can prove it.”  
  
“He'll say anything.” Wilfred bent down toward the kindling again, but Kelso grabbed the torch and raised it back up. Kelso wasn't letting go. Neither was Wilfred.  
  
“The Peep family has scammed you for years!” Kelso said.  
  
The Peeps in the crowd, Larry, Colin, Barbara, all shouted denials.  
  
“They have their own magic well,” Kelso continued, “and they've stopped the rest of you from getting in on that deal. Wish-water for the common man? No. Wish-water only for the Peeps.”   
  
“It's a lie!” Wilfred's face was flush, his teeth gnashed, and he tried to pull the torch free of Kelso's grip. Kelso wrestled with him for control, and the torch's flame came too damn close to the kindling.  
  
“Kelso!” Hyde shouted. “Imagine it's your dick!”  
  
Kelso wrenched the torch out of Wilfred's hands. Then he tossed it to the ground far from the stake.  
  
“When Sally Peep lost the competition, she fucked up your well, didn't she, Wilfred?” Kelso shoved his finger in the old bastard's face. “You found out what she did, you followed her up into the field, and you killed her—didn't you?” Kelso's whole body was shaking. Hyde had never seen him that pissed off.  
  
Wilfred was no longer red. He was pale as milk. “I don't know what you're talking about.” His lips were quivering. “We don't have no magic well.”  
  
Kelso turned to the crowd of villagers.“Why do you think they've smoked the competition year-after-year? Why do you think their food tastes so much better than yours?”  
  
The Peeps cursed at him, but a woman stepped in front of the crowd and said, “I believe him!” Then she pointed at Wilfred. “You Peeps have cheated us for too long.”  
  
“Where's the proof to any of this?” Wilfred said. “Prove that I killed Sally.”  
  
“Yes, go on. Prove it,” Barbara Peep said. Larry and Colin laughed smugly beside her.  
  
“Where's your coat, Wilfred? The one you were wearing last night?” Kelso's tone was more aloof than Hyde had thought him capable of. He actually sounded like a cop.  
  
Kelso whistled, and a no-longer golden Fez trotted up to him. A blood-soaked coat was dangling in his doggy jaws.  
  
Kelso held up the coat for everyone to see. “Poor, hot Sally wasn't screaming 'Wolf' at all, was she, Wilfred? She was screaming your name. 'Wilf! Wilf!'”   
  
The villagers gasped. Some of the shepherdesses started to cry.  
  
“She'd ruined the well, the dirty little vixen.” Wilfred had begun to cry, too, but Hyde wasn't sure what over. “She destroyed all of our—”  
  
Barbara Peep got in Wilfred's face. “You killed our Sally?” She was trembling, but her voice was clearly fueled by rage. “I'm gonna kill  _ you! _ ” She went for his throat, but Hyde didn't get to see anything else. Other Peeps had surrounded the old bastard for their own shot at him.  
  
Moments later, the pressure around Hyde's wrists and stomach lessened. Jackie and Kelso were untying the ropes around him. He scanned the crowd for Forman and Donna, but he didn't see them anywhere.   
  
“Let's go,” Jackie said.   
  
The three of them jumped off the kindling while the whole village brawled in the Square. Fists were swinging wildly. Elbows were jabbing. Hyde pulled Kelso in front of Jackie, and Hyde stayed behind her as they—and Fez—moved along the edge of the massive free-for-all.   
  
They rushed down the road and made it back to Fidelity's farm unscathed. But Hyde stopped them in a pasture some distance from the barn.   
  
“You guys saved my ass,” he said. “Kelso, man, when did you get... smart?”  
  
Kelso shrugged and blushed. “About two minutes into your 'trial'. And may I just say,” he whipped a hand toward Hyde's face and pointed, “BURN!”   
  
Hyde grabbed Kelso's wrist and glowered. Then he pulled him in for a hug. “Thanks, man.”  
  
“No problem.” Kelso patted his back. “No one gets to burn you but me.”  
  
Hyde let go of him. “You almost did.”  
  
“Yeah, sorry about that. Wilfred's pretty strong for an old geezer.”  
  
“Fez,” Hyde bent down and scratched his friend's furry chin, “I'm gonna get you a bone, and a chick to bone, once you're human again. Sound good?” Fez wagged his tail.  
  
Then Hyde peered over at Jackie. She was busy tearing off the black courtroom garb she'd been forced to wear. He had a lot he wanted to say to her. But the words all crammed into his throat at the same time, and Kelso and Fez were around, and Jackie seemed annoyed that the robe had gotten tangled around her ankles.  
  
He crouched by her and pulled the robe off her boots. Then he tried to pull some words out of his mouth.   
  
Nothing.  
  
“That's it?” Jackie said. “Michael gets a hug and a thank you, Fez gets a promise you'll get him nice things, and all I get is some help taking my clothes off?   
  
“You're still dressed,” Hyde said.  
  
She crossed her arms. “I'm waiting, Steven.”  
  
“For what?” He knew what.  
  
“Praise, adulation, adoration, glorification—”  
  
“Gratification?” Kelso said. “'Cause I can give you that.”   
  
“Ooh!” Jackie turned away from them.   
  
Hyde hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and watched her stomp toward the barn. He might've been saved from death, but he was still totally screwed.   
  
Kelso and Fez reached the barn door only seconds after Jackie. None of them had a chance to open it, though, because Forman and Donna pushed it open from the inside.  
  
“Oh, my God,” Donna said.  
  
“Hyde!” Forman lunged at him and wrapped skinny arms around his body. “You're alive! You're  _ alive! _ ”  
  
“Yeah,” Hyde let Forman stay for about three seconds before shoving him off, “no thanks to you, you big girl!”  
  
“Hyde,” Donna said, “we didn't know what to do, and—who cares? You're alive!” She hugged him now, but he didn't stop her. “We've been crying our eyes out,” she said, and he knew she meant “we”. Her body shook against him. She was still freakin' crying. “We thought you were dead.”  
  
“Well, I'm not, so you can quit it with the tears, okay?” He pushed her off him gently.  
  
“Why aren't you dead?” Forman wrapped his arms around Hyde again, but this time Hyde let him stay. “I'm so glad you're not dead.” He sniffled into Hyde's shoulder.   
  
Forman was such a damn girl, but Hyde didn't blame him and Donna for the tears. Or for not sticking around for what was almost his execution. They'd felt helpless... They loved him.   
  
Hyde's throat tightened. He never really understood why they loved him, but they did. All of them did. He felt damn lucky for it, too—not that he'd ever tell 'em that.  
  
“I'll let Jackie and Kelso fill you in on the details,” Hyde said when Forman released him. “I'm ready to get the hell out of Dodge.”   
  
“Uh, about that,” Forman said.  
  
“What?” Hyde and Jackie said together.   
  
Donna ushered everyone into the barn silently.   
  
“Wha—?” Kelso's jaw hung slackly. “What happened to the wagon?”  
  
“What wagon?” Hyde said. “Who cares about a wagon?”  
  
“The mirror was in that wagon!” Jackie said.  
  
Hyde stared at Kelso. “Why?”  
  
“It's where we hid it,” Kelso said.  
  
“Why?” Hyde said again.  
  
“Because... because,” Kelso was clearly struggling to find a good answer, “because—”  
  
“We're stupid!” Eric said. “Okay? We're stupid.”  
  
“Where the hell is that wagon?” Jackie started to dig through the barn. Pieces of straw and hay flew up, old farm junk got tossed around. Hyde had to side-step a metal dish she flung at his ankles, and he wondered if she'd purposely aimed it at him. “Where's the damn wagon?” she shouted. “It has to be here!”   
  
Hyde spotted his jacket on a hay bale and picked it up. He'd lost his shades and his belt, but at least he still had something left.  
  
Fidelity, the Nine Kingdoms' version of Kitty Forman, stepped inside the barn. She was carrying a wicker basket and wearing her ever-cheerful smile, as if she had no clue that the village had just collapsed into anarchy.   
  
Jackie ran to her. “Where's the wagon?”   
  
“Oh, my son, John,” Fidelity said. “He's just taken his pigs to market. Left a couple of hours ago.”   
  
Donna shut her eyes and sighed. “Which way and how far?”  
  
“Well...” Fidelity frowned for the first time since they'd met her, “it's not a journey you'd want to make on foot.” Then her cheerfulness returned, and she told them that the easiest way to get to market was to hitch a ride with one of the local farmers.  
  
That meant passing through the village square so they could get to another farm. Hyde didn't like it, but he was the first one out of the barn.   
  
The brawl seemed to have ended by the time they got to the Square. The stake was gone, and so were most of the villagers. That was fine by him. He never wanted to see any of Little Lamb Village's citizens again—except for one.  
  
They went over to the wishing well. Leo was still sitting on the well's stone lip.   
  
“Hey, man!” Leo said, seemingly oblivious to what had just gone down right in front of him. “Did you enjoy your stay here?”   
  
Hyde put a hand on his old friend's shoulder. “Not really, man.”  
  
“Oh. Why not?”  
  
“Almost got burned at the stake.”   
  
“Yeah, that happened to me once, man. That's why I eat my steaks rare now.” Leo stared at Fez. “Wish I could remember who that dog reminds me of.”  
  
“It's Fez,” Kelso said. “Your ruler.” Fez wagged his tail.  
  
Leo laughed. “Fez is a ruler, man? How many inches does he have?”   
  
Kelso angled his head under Fez's belly. “Uh, I can't tell. It's kinda hidden by fur.”   
  
“No, Fez is the Prince of the Fourth Kingdom,” Hyde said. “We gotta get on our way if we're gonna get him back to that throne of his... as a butt-sniffing human. Hey, you wanna join us, man?”  
  
“I can't. Water hasn't returned to the well yet.” Leo cupped a hand over his mouth and whispered, “And I got a sweet thing going with a couple of shepherdesses here, man.”  
  
“All right, Leo.” Hyde hugged him—but it was the last damn hug he was giving anyone for, at least, the next three years. “I'll miss you, man.”  
  
“I'm right here,” Leo said when they parted.  
  
“You sure are,” Hyde said.  
  
Kelso patted Leo on the back. Forman and Donna waved goodbye, and Fez had already gone up ahead with Jackie.  
  
“Wait,” Leo said, “aren't you gonna make a wish?”  
  
Hyde pulled a coin from his jacket and tossed it at him. “Make one yourself, man.”  
  
Leo dropped the coin into the well, and it landed with a splash. He stuck his head inside the well. “No way, man.” His voice was an echoey muffle. “There's wa—”  
  
A torrent of water and colorful sparks exploded from the well and hurled Leo backward. He crashed onto the ground, but seemed unharmed, and he watched the wet light show taking place in front of him.  
  
“Finally, man,” he said. “I can leave.”  
  
Leo picked himself up and started off in a different direction than Hyde and the others.  
  
“Hey,” Hyde shouted, “where are you going?”  
  
“I got a hot date, man. She's been waiting about three months. She's gotta be horny.”   
  
Hyde laughed. He really was gonna miss him, but Leo would be fine. He always was.   
  
Fez, though, needed a buttload of help. He was supposed to be crowned king of this kingdom, and that wasn't going to happen with Laurie whoring up the place with the Trolls and doing Clapton-knew-what to Fez's human body. Once they found that mirror, Hyde would shove Jackie, Forman, and Donna through it if he had to. But he and Kelso were going to help Fez de-skank and de-Troll his kingdom.  
  
No matter how long it took.


	29. The Kissing Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

  CHAPTER 29   
**THE KISSING TOWN**

The ride on the wagon was a bumpy one, but Jackie didn't care. She was just relieved the farmer who'd picked them up wasn't transporting pigs. Michael had fallen asleep with one arm draped over Fez. The sight was still cute since Fez was a dog—and not his usual gross, over-cologned self. But seeing him that way also made her sad. Being a pooch for so long must have felt awful.  
  
Jackie peered over at Donna and Eric. They were sitting quietly together in a pile of hay, not looking at each other but at the mountains passing by. Michael had explained how he and Fez found Sally's real killer and saved Steven from a fiery death. And Jackie could've added how her courtroom performance gave them the time to do it, but she didn't have to. Steven had said it himself.   
  
That was his way of thanking her.  
  
That was also the only time he'd said anything. He spent most of their endless wagon ride reading a book he found underneath a blanket. Jackie kept glancing at him, hoping to catch his eye, to get him to talk because his silence was really annoying. But the stupid book,  _ Trolls, Dwarves, and Elves: Their Various Elixirs, Powders, and Poisons, _ occupied all his attention. Her usual tactic, to start a conversation anyway, might have worked—but he'd been through enough.   
  
Another boring, bumpy hour went by before they finally reached a town. Jackie had become quite cranky during their trip, but her mood lifted as soon as the wagon pulled into the town gate. The buildings inside were actual buildings, not barns or farmhouses, and most were painted in gorgeous pastel shades. Hundreds—if not thousands—of heart balloons floated overhead, and harp music trilled through the air.   
  
Even better were the people. They bustled to and fro with their arms full of flower bouquets or beautifully wrapped gifts. And they all knew how to dress. This wasn't a town full of peasants; it was a town full of well-to-doers, and they all seemed so happy. Not the scary, hiding-something-evil happy of Little Lamb Village. These people reminded Jackie of herself.   
  
The wagon stopped at the curb of a wide, cobblestone street, and Eric said, “Where exactly are we?”   
  
“We've come to the most romantic town of the Nine Kingdoms,” their driver said. “The Kissing Town, where everyone falls in love.”  
  
Jackie gasped. She'd finally found the town of her dreams.  
  
“It looks like Valentine's Day threw up in here,” Steven said.  
  
Eric placed his hands over his heart and spoke with a girlish lilt. “'Steven,' you say the most romantic things.”  
  
Steven punched him in the arm. “Shove it, Forman.” Then he slapped Michael's leg to wake him up.  
  
“Where are we?” Michael yawned. His eyes were only half open.  
  
Jackie sighed. “Heaven.”  
  
“Hell.” Steven scowled and jumped out of the wagon. The rest of them followed.   
  
“This is the Kissing Town, Michael,” Jackie said, “where everyone falls in love.”  
  
“Really?” Michael glanced around him. “I better be careful. Don't want fifty chicks falling in love with me at once. Two or three are enough.”  
  
“We didn't come here for that,” Donna said. “We're here for the mirror, okay?”  
  
“Well, I know who I'm  _ not _ falling in love with,” Michael said.  
  
None of them knew where to search for the mirror first, so they just started walking. The place was a treasure trove of shops. Rows and rows of them sold candy and flowers, engagement rings and wedding dresses, and even lambskin condoms and kissing lessons. People threw confetti into the air. A couple had just gotten married, and other couples were making out against storefronts, on benches—everywhere.   
  
Jackie's heart sped up. This really was heaven, and all she wanted to do was take Steven's hand and lead him off somewhere. But he hadn't really looked at or spoken to her since they left Fidelity's farm.  
  
“Man, I can't believe—” a heart balloon floated into Steven's face, and he smacked it away, “we gotta search for the mirror in this craphole.”   
  
They stopped by a fountain depicting a marriage proposal between two lovers, and a little blonde girl skipped toward them. She was wearing a light blue dress with golden costume wings at her back, and she held a golden bow and arrow—just like Cupid.   
  
“Hello,” the little girl said. “I've been looking for you all day. I can see love and fortune coming your way.”  
  
Jackie clapped. “I knew it!”  
  
“Is it for me?” Eric said, “because I could really use a little of both.” Donna hit his shoulder. “Make that a lot of both.”  
  
“Great romance and great wealth before this very night is out,” the girl said, and Jackie's pulse raced even more.  
  
Michael leaned closer to the girl. “Which of us makes the money?”  
  
“Your aura is cloudy,” she said. “Just give me a couple of coins.”   
  
“And there it is,” Steven said with a smug grin, but Jackie pulled a few coins from her jacket and handed them to the girl. “Sucker,” he whispered by her ear. His breath warmed her cheek and agitated the rest of her.  
  
“Thank you,” the girl said and pointed to the left of them. “If you look over there, you might find what you're looking for. Good-bye.”   
  
Eric stared in the direction the girl had pointed. “That's the pig wagon!” he said. “The one the mirror was in.” Then he turned to Kelso. “Right? That's it, isn't it?”   
  
“How did she know that?” Michael said.  
  
“Who cares?” Eric said. “Come on!”  
  
Everyone ran to the wagon. Eric and Michael opened its back gate and dug around in hay.  
  
“Nothing!” Eric said.  
  
A farmer walked up to them, wearing a chubby-cheeked grin and the distinct,  _ bleh _ clothing of Little Lamb Village. He had to be Fidelity's son, John.  
  
“Is this yours? Jackie said about the wagon. Michael was still rooting through hay. “Where's our mirror?”  
  
“I didn't know it was yours, now did I?” John said.  
  
Eric stepped in front of him. “Where is it?”   
  
“You wouldn't want it now, anyway.” John gestured to his wagon. “It's covered in pig shit.”  
  
Jackie grabbed his coat collar and shook him. “ _ Where is it? _ ”   
  
“I don't rightly know.” He was frowning. “Fellow gave me five coppers for it this morning.”  
  
Jackie let him go, and John didn't seem fazed by her hostility at all—stupid farmer. He closed the gate of his wagon.  
  
“'Five coppers'?” Donna said.  
  
“What 'fellow'?” Eric said.  
  
“I dunno,” John said. “He was just passing through with a wheelbarrow full of bricky-brac. Probably came from the antiques market.”  
  
Michael glanced at Fez. “Bricky-brac?” But Fez didn't seem to have an answer for him.  
  
Jackie felt her spirits dip just a little. If John were right, then it was going to take them forever to find the mirror. She knew how shopping districts were. That antiques market probably had at least two dozen different stores they'd have to search through.  
  
“You'd do best to split up,” John said and climbed onto the driver's box. “Shame there won't be any time for romance, though.” He slapped his horse with the reins, and the wagon pulled slowly away.  
  
“Oh, yes, there will!” Jackie shouted after him. She'd make sure of it.

***

They had all split up, and Eric didn't know what surprised him more: Hyde agreeing to go with Jackie or that Donna had agreed to go with himself. Her attitude toward him had been up-and-down since the Gypsy Queen's fortune. He'd tried in every rare moment of downtime they had to get her to open up about it, but she either said it was “no big deal” or found some way to burn him. Little burns. Match-strikes, really, but they hurt nonetheless.  
  
They were walking through an outdoor market filled with all sorts of odd junk his mom would've bought. Baskets, chairs, and birdcages. Huge vases and little sculptures of gnomes. Donna seemed interested in it, too. Sometimes she'd pick up a porcelain bowl or feel the fabric of a skirt.  
  
“It's not my fault, you know,” Eric said.  
  
Donna was examining a painted barrel. “What isn't?”  
  
“That the Gypsy Queen told me I had 'a great destiny' and told you nothing.”  
  
“Eric, would you drop it already? I don't care what some crazy old witch said or didn't say.”  
  
“But—”  
  
She brushed her fingers through his hair. It was the second time she'd really touched him since he'd rescued her from the Huntsman. “Let's move on, okay?” she said.  
  
“Yes. Donna, yes.” Eric took her hand. “That's all I want, to forget that stupid fortune... to forget how much I hurt you.”  
  
“It's not like I didn't hurt you, too,” she said. A stack of mirrors was leaning against a wooden frame. She flipped through them. “I have a tendency to be passive-aggressive when I get pissed.”  
  
“You?”   
  
Donna laughed. “Shut up.”  
  
Their mirror wasn't in the stack, and they'd reached the end of the market. An auction house was just down the street. They decided to check it out.  
  
Golden statues, jeweled treasure chests, and swords in ornamented scabbards were just some of the items they found crammed in the first hall. Eric rubbed his hands together. This was the real stuff, the real goods. He bet some of it was even magic.  
  
“Oh, my God. Eric, get over here!” Donna pulled him over to a corner. The three Trolls were crouching there, golden and frozen—and ugly as ever. They were still a statue. Even so, Eric backed away.  
  
“Not a very attractive piece, I'll grant you,” an auctioneer said beside them, “but full of vitality and life. 'Frozen Rage'. Does it tickle your fancy?”  
  
“Not even close,” Donna said.  
  
The auctioneer seemed disappointed.  
  
“Actually, we're looking for a mirror,” Eric said. “It's about my height, black?”  
  
“I seem to remember a job lot of junk.” The auctioneer shrugged and pointed to the next hall. “There.”  
  
Eric and Donna looked at each other briefly. Then they ran to the next hall.

***

Rummaging through a musty antique store was not Jackie's idea of romance. The beautiful two-horse carriage she saw outside the window was more like it. The driver had just dropped off a couple and seemed to be waiting to pick up another fare.  
  
Jackie glanced behind her. Steven was just returning from the back of the store. She dashed to him and tapped his shoulder.  
  
“Steven,” she pointed to the carriage outside. “Can we please,  _ please,  _ take a ride? I am so bored with looking through stuff Donna's father wouldn't even own.”  
  
“The owner said he didn't get any mirrors in today, so...” he shrugged. “Sure.”  
  
“Aw, but I really wan—'sure'? Did you say—never mind!”  
  
Her hand clamped down on his wrist, and she yanked him out of the store.  
  
“We'd like to hire you,” Jackie said to the carriage driver. Steven had already climbed into the passenger seat.  
  
“Where to?” the driver said.  
  
Jackie leaned in close to him. “Somewhere romantic,” she whispered. Then she climbed into the carriage, and the horses pulled it away from the store.   
  
The passenger seats were well-cushioned and soft. It made for a very smooth ride, most likely to let couples fool around without worrying about being jostled. Jackie looked at Steven. He wasn't sitting close enough for her liking, but at least he'd agreed to the ride without argument.  
  
The driver was taking them up a hill. Heart balloons drifted in the air above them, couples were having picnics in the fields nearby, and Jackie felt better than she had since before she'd even gone to Chicago. Steven's focus, though, seemed to be on the landscape. Hills crested against the sky like green waves, and white cottages dappled them like foam. She needed to get his attention   
  
“Steven.” She touched his knee, and finally he turned to her. “Why did you...” She wanted to ask why he was taking this ride, but then she spotted something different about his pants. “Where's your belt?”  
  
Steven glanced down. “Probably dangling from some shepherdess's crook.”  
  
“Wait,” she said, “are you telling me you slept with one of those sheep-herding skanks?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Good.” Jackie unbuttoned her jacket and smoothed down her blouse.   
  
“It might've been two or three of 'em.”   
  
“ _ Ugh. _ ” She used Steven's knee to push herself up. “Driver!” she said. “Driver, would you take us back to tow—”  
  
Steven gently pulled her down to the seat. “Nothing happened, okay? I was too damn stoned to even keep a hard-on.” He rolled his eyes, something he rarely did. “I did not dig that Dwarf moss, man.” He raised a hand to his chin. “I like my high here.” Then he raised it an arm's length above his head. “Not here.”  
  
“So you're saying that if you could have kept it up you would've...”   
  
“I really don't know. Maybe.”  
  
Jackie looked away from him. She was feeling decidedly less romantic. “Well, I'm sure your manhood was happy for the break, considering all the girls you've slept with the last six months.”   
  
“Actually... I haven't been with anyone since you.”  
  
Jackie opened her mouth but no sound came out. A fluttery sensation, like fingers drumming themselves on her heart, deprived her of all speech. She'd thought for sure he'd gone to some other woman after Chicago, like a Vegas stripper named Samantha... and then plenty of other girls after that. But she knew he was telling the truth. Steven didn't lie about these things. It was one of his best and worst qualities.  
  
“So what about you?” he said. “How many weathermen got to forecast from your station—or was it just Kelso?”  
  
She shook her head in disgust. “None. No one. Not even stupid Michael and his stupid towel and his stupid bucket of ice.”  
  
“Good to know.” He rested his arm on the seat behind her. He was sitting closer to her now, enough that their knees touched.  
  
Jackie sighed, and her shoulders relaxed. He believed her. Maybe that meant he believed her about other things, too.  
  
“Remember the story of Snow White,” the driver was speaking to them from the front of the carriage, “when she swallowed the poison apple and everyone thought she was dead?”   
  
“Uh, no,” Steven said.  
  
“Well,” the driver continued, “the Seven Dwarves, they'd brought her here and put her in a glass coffin—”  
  
“Here?” Jackie looked out at the hill. It had gotten steeper, and large bouquets of flowers sat by the side of the road.  
  
The driver still continued, “—in the hopes that someone might be able to bring her back to life.”  
  
“Here...” she said again, “in this town?”  
  
“At the top of this very hill,” the driver said.  
  
Jackie settled into the back of her seat. Snow White had always been her favorite of the fairy tale heroines. Like Jackie, she was the prettiest and—like Jackie—had to suffer so much because of the jealousy of others.  
  
Steven chuckled softly. “Still can't believe Snow White is Fez's grandmother, man.”   
  
The horses brought the carriage into a partially fenced-off area, a kind of parking lot for horse-and-carriages. Steven climbed out and helped Jackie do the same without her having to ask. Then he paid the driver.   
  
Jackie stared at him. Steven had been acting strangely since they got to Kissing Town. She wasn't going to mention anything, though. It was a good strange, and she didn't want to jinx it.  
  
They walked together toward a wide, wooden archway. Embossed on it in bright red lettering were the words: “True Love Never Dies”. Jackie covered her mouth and willed herself not to cry. She was only moderately successful. “True love never dies” had been her motto since she was a little girl.   
  
Underneath the archway was a glass coffin. Pink arrow signs with Snow White's name written on them pointed to it, and a painter's easel was set up nearby.  
  
“Oh, my God,” Jackie said, “is that the real glass coffin?” She grabbed Steven's hand and pulled him along. To her surprise and delight, he didn't fight her.  
  
They stopped by the easel, but Steven didn't let go of her hand. He was smiling at her. It was an unguarded smile that reached his equally unguarded eyes. He only looked that way when he was...  
  
“I don't know what the hell is going on,” he said, “but I'm feeling really good right now.”  
  
“Aw, Steven... you're finally letting your romantic spirit run free.” She stroked his cheek, and he didn't flinch away from her touch. “Huh. This town really does have magic love powers.”   
  
“This town makes me wanna vomit—and this place is a freakin' tourist trap. Look at all the crap people are selling.”  
  
She hadn't noticed it before, but vendors filled almost every space of the hill not occupied by visiting couples. They sold balloons and flowers and apple pendants. Mini glass coffins spun out of sugar and poems written on the spot. Jackie's face must have betrayed her desire to own it all because Steven said, “I'm not buying any of it,” and pulled her away to Snow White's glass coffin.

***

Eric couldn't believe the amount of “antique” crap that choked the next hall. He also had no idea why the auction house had bothered to accept it. Who the hell was going to bid on a tapestry that looked as though rats had eaten half of it?  
  
Donna was digging through a junk pile, but he was tired of searching. He fiddled absently with a piece of dusty canvas draped over something. A junky easel, maybe? He couldn't tell.  
  
The  _ Star Wars  _ theme was playing in his mind, and he started to flap the corners of the cavnas to it. “ _ Dun-DAH, _ ” he sang aloud, “ _ dun-dun-dun-DAH-dun. Dun-dun-dun-DAH-dun. Dun-dun— _ oh, crap!”  
  
The canvas had slipped to the floor. Eric bent to pick it up, and there it was—the freakin' mirror. The canvas had been covering the mirror.  
  
“Donna,” he said, “I found it. It's here!”  
  
Donna rushed over to him. “Keep it down,” she said. “We don't want the whole town knowing.”   
  
“Right, right,” he whispered. “I found it.”  
  
A tag had been attached to the mirror. It read:

JOB LOT 101  
MIRROR  
NEEDS RESTORATION  
ESTIMATE 10-15 GOLD COINS

“It's priced really cheap,” Eric said. “No one knows what it actually is.”   
  
He touched the secret switch, but Donna slapped his hand away. “Don't turn it on in here, dink. Everyone will see.”  
  
Eric glanced behind him. For a room full of junk, a lot of people sure seemed interested in it.  
  
“We need to find that auctioneer,” he said and started walking toward the first hall. “Hyde's got enough coins on him f—”   
  
He stumbled over someone's cane, a gold-and-ruby topped cane. An old man was standing in front of him, wearing a nice suit and a monocle. His hair was wispy and white, his cheeks had a pinkish glow, and his ears were... pointy?  
  
“Eric,” Donna whispered, “I think that's an elf.”   
  
“An elderly elf,” Eric whispered back.   
  
“Hmm...” The Elf tapped the mirror's frame with his cane. “What do you think?” His voice was deeper than Eric expected it to be, and it sounded professorial.  
  
“Oh, this?” Eric said. “I wouldn't waste my time with it.” He threw the dusty canvas back over the mirror. “Piece of junk.”  
  
The Elf leaned in conspiratorially. “At first I thought it was a reproduction, Late Naked Emperor at best, but I think it's older than that. Quite a lot older.” He gestured to the mirror with his cane. “Maybe even early Cinderellan. And quite a lot more special.”   
  
The Elf lifted the canvas off the mirror and bent down to get a closer look. Diaphanous wings jutted from his back through his suit.  
  
Eric tugged on Donna's sleeve, and she followed him out of the auction house without argument. They had to find Hyde—and fast—if they were to have any hope of winning that mirror.

***

Jackie was lying in Snow White's glass coffin, which she'd realized wasn't the real deal but a touristy representation. It should have been morbid being inside there, but it was actually quite romantic. Roses in full bloom surrounded the outside, and the coffin had no roof, which gave her a clear view of the sky. The inside was lined by fuchsia velvet and gold brocade. Best of all, Steven was leaning over the side of it. He hadn't said much since he pulled her here, but he also hadn't taken his eyes off her.  
  
A while earlier, a painter had offered to paint their picture and tell them the story of Snow White. Steven refused to wear the prince costume, but he didn't seem to mind the rest of it.  
  
“Right,” the painter said and cleared his throat. “So Snow White is lying in that coffin for years, and everyone thinks she's dead—Miss, you should close your eyes.”  
  
Jackie did so begrudgingly, only because it would make the painting more realistic, but she really didn't want to miss a minute of Steven's—whatever it was. She had no idea what he was thinking or truly feeling. But the way he was acting sent jubilant sparks coursing through her body.  
  
“And slow down your breathing, too,” the painter said, “so your chest is almost not moving at all.”  
  
Steven laughed. He didn't think she could do it, did he? Well, she'd show him.  
  
“That's nice,” the painter said. “Perfect. So all these handsome chaps come along and try to bring Snow White around, but none of them are good enough for her.”  
  
That story was speaking to Jackie's soul. She resisted the urge to open her eyes. Steven's breath was tickling her skin. Had he moved closer to her?  
  
The painter continued. “And then one day, this drop dead gorgeous prince comes past. And he stops, thinks, 'What a lovely girl, but she's frozen. Cold.' And she resists his every call with her frozen countenance... And he realizes that the only way he can melt this ice queen is to massage the life back into her soft lips with a kiss.”   
  
Steven's breath had grown warm and very, very close. Jackie opened her eyes. His lips were barely an inch away. The rhythm of her pulse quickened. Her lips parted, her body anticipated his warmth...  
  
“Hey!”  
  
Steven's face jerked away. Stupid Eric had stupid shouted at them. He was running toward the coffin with Donna, Michael and Fez.  
  
“Come on!” Eric said.  
  
Jackie glanced at Steven—at the empty space where he had been. He was no longer at her side but with their friends some feet away.   
  
Jackie frowned. Sometimes she really hated their friends. 

***

Eric had led everyone to the auction house, to the hall full of junk, and then to the exact spot he'd discovered the mirror. Only the mirror wasn't there.   
  
“It was here,” he said.  
  
“Well, it's gone now!” Jackie said.  
  
“No, it was right here!” Eric shouted. He darted between junk piles, flipped over embroidered rugs and curtains—anything that could be hiding the mirror. And then he saw the auctioneer.   
  
“Hey, wait!” Eric said. He'd gotten his attention. “The mirror that was here, where is it?”  
  
The auctioneer bounced on his heels, clearly pleased with himself. “Oh, you mean the magic mirror. What a find. We're all tremendously excited about it.” He pointed to yet another hall. “It's in there.”  
  
They all rushed inside. The mirror was leaning on a stand. Art restorers were burnishing the now-gold frame with cloths, and a different description tag had been attached to it:

LOT 7  
VERY FINE MAGIC MIRROR  
EARLY CINDERELLAN  
DWARF WROUGHT & RUNED  
ESTIMATE 5,000 GOLD FEZES

Eric slapped his forehead. “Now it's five thousand?”  
  
“We'll never raise that,” Donna said.  
  
“I've always wanted to attempt grand larceny.”  
  
“Steven, no,” Jackie said.  
  
Fez barked, and Kelso made a face. “We are so screwed.”  
  
Eric could only agree.


	30. What's Your Wager?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 30  
**WHAT'S YOUR WAGER?**

The gang sat on a bench, in front of a large fountain depicting Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Fountain water was splashing on the back of Kelso's neck, and no one had fallen in love with him yet, and people were meandering about the town square as if everything was hunky-dory—but everything sucked.   
  
“Oh, Kelso,” Fez said at his feet, “this is the worst mess I have ever been in, and I have been in plenty. Look.”   
  
A billboard nearby told the news that Fez's coronation had been canceled.  
  
“'Fez's Disgrace,'” Fez read out loud in Kelso's mind. “They are canceling my coronation, and all you care about is getting that stupid mirror back.”  
  
“Hey, that mirror isn't stupid, stupid. It's our way home, and I've got a daughter back there, remember?”  
  
“Ai, no, I have hurt you.” Fez nuzzled against Kelso's legs. “I'm sorry, my friend. I haven't had candy in so long, and... I am a dog.”   
  
Kelso scratched Fez's side. “It's okay, buddy. And once you're not a dog anymore, we're gonna make them un-cancel your coronation.” Then he turned to Hyde, whose arm was resting behind Jackie's shoulders—weird. “How much money do we have left?”  
  
Hyde shook a pouch full of coins. “Fifty gold ones.”  
  
“How are we going to change fifty into five thousand by tomorrow?” Donna said.  
  
“Give 'em to me.” Kelso reached for the pouch, but Hyde pulled it away. “Come on. I have an idea.”  
  
Hyde hesitated, but then he tossed Kelso the pouch.  
  
“What are you doing, man?” Eric said.  
  
“Hey, he got me free from that murder charge,” Hyde said. “He's not as dumb as he looks.”  
  
“Thanks, Hyde.” Kelso jumped off the bench. “Follow me, guys.”  
  
Everyone stood, and he led them across the town square. They ended up at a building he'd spotted earlier: the Lucky-In-Love Casino. A cute chick was playing a golden lyre outside, and some dude offered to sell them a lucky charm—but one look from Hyde scared him off.   
  
“Trust me,” Kelso said. “This is one of my best ideas ever.” He opened the coin pouch and distributed the money evenly. Ten coins each to Jackie, Hyde, Eric, Big D, and himself. “One of us has gotta hit it big by tomorrow morning.”  
  
“Hold on a sec.” Donna pulled out a piece of blue paper from her coat and a lump of charcoal. Then she used Eric's back as a writing surface and wrote something on the paper.   
  
“What are you doing?” Eric said.  
  
“Making a sign for Fez.” She used some string to hang the sign around Fez's neck.  
  
“Ooh, what does it say?” Fez said. “Is it about how great a lover I am?”  
  
“Let's see...” Kelso read the paper out loud:

LUCKY GAMBLING DOG  
PLEASE SPLIT WINNINGS 20/20

Kelso scoffed. “Donna, no one's gonna believe that. I mean, he's not lucky at all! First, he's not really a dog but a guy who got turned into a dog—that's bad luck right there. Then he got turned into gold.”   
  
“Because he's friends with you,” Hyde said. “Maybe  _ you're _ bad luck, man.”  
  
“Yeah, if it weren't for you, Steven and I would still be together!” Jackie wrapped her arms around one of Hyde's, and Hyde didn't seem to hate it. Weird again.   
  
“Oh, I am  _ not _ bad luck,” Kelso said. “In fact, I bet I'll win more money than all of you combined.”  
  
Hyde smirked. “He's gonna lose all ten coins in ten seconds.”  
  
“N'uh-uh.” Kelso stepped onto the red carpet leading through the casino doors. “I'm gonna win big!”

***

The casino smelled of cigar smoke, and Eric covered his nose as he walked around. Female croupiers ran games all across the floor, but he didn't know which to play. Hyde sat at a card table, Jackie and Kelso were trying the slot machines, and Donna was betting on some rabbit race. That old Elf from the auction house was here, too—probably for the same reason as all of them: to make enough money to bid on the mirror.   
  
Eric hurried to the Wheel of Fortune game. “Excuse me, ma'am,” he said to the croupier in charge of it, “what's the highest return possible from one gold Fez bet?”  
  
“Well, sir,” the croupier said, “you'd want to bet on the grand Jack Rabbit Jackpot at ten-thousand-to-one odds.”  
  
“Oh, yeah!” Eric placed a coin over the golden rabbit symbol on the table.   
  
“But it's only ever been won once,” the croupier said.  
  
“Lady,” he said, “my life has been so fully of crappy luck, it's gotta change some time.”  
  
The croupier spun the wheel, and a strange pink light flickered at the edge of Eric's vision—a casino lantern? He turned toward Donna and her rabbit race. She was jumping up and down, pumping her fist, and shouting as if she were at a wrestling match. Damn, she was hot.   
  
The wheel clicked slower and slower behind him, and yet his eyes were still on Donna. If he won enough, they could buy back the mirror... and maybe he'd even have a little left over to buy her something special, something that could really help them get back on track.  
  
Finally, Eric returned his attention to the wheel. It had stopped nowhere near the jackpot.  
  
“Bad luck, sir.” The croupier took his coin off the table.  
  
“That's can't last,” Eric said. He put another coin on the jackpot symbol.

***

Hyde was already up by a hundred coins-worth of chips. He'd won the last four rounds of Happy Families, and he was about to win a fifth. The other players were pissed. That was good. It made them sloppy. He, on the other hand, remained aloof. His shades were gone, but they didn't make him Zen, man. Zen was a part of his soul...  
  
A part Jackie had successfully bypassed ever since they got to this hellhole of a town. He was glad she was gambling on the other side of the casino. The last thing he needed was her distracting him from the game.  
  
The fifth round was almost his. Three of his four opponents had folded. The remaining player threw a ten-coin chip into the pot and said, “Call it.”  
  
Hyde kept his voice cool. “You got Mr. Bun The Baker?”  
  
The guy scowled and tossed the card onto the table. Hyde scooped it up then laid out three sets of Happy Families.  
  
“You win some, you lose some,” Hyde said and slid the pot of chips to him. “Actually, I win it all, and you're a bunch of losers.” He let himself laugh. This was starting to be fun.  
  
Two of his opponents left the table in a huff, but two more quickly replaced them. Hyde leaned back in his chair. Fresh blood with fresh chips. He'd enjoy taking them.

***

Eric had lost all but his last coin, and that one he was about to lose, too. He couldn't bring himself to watch the wheel, so he focused on Donna instead. She looked as if she wanted to wring the neck of the rabbit that was apparently losing for her.  
  
The wheel clicked behind him, spinning him closer and closer to yet another failure. Donna would do worse than wring his neck for taking such a risk. He really was a dumba—  
  
Lights flashed. Bells rang. Eric looked for the exit. Was it a fire drill? Then he felt a tap on his shoulder.  
  
“Oh, my goodness,” the croupier said. “Sir, you've won the Jack Rabbit Jackpot.”  
  
“I have?” Eric faced the wheel. Its arrow pointed to the golden jackpot segment.  
  
“Ten thousand gold coins,” the croupier said. “If you'd like to go to the cash desk, you can pick up your winnings.”  
  
He nodded. “I would like that.” His heart felt like ten thousand little rabbits were hopping on it. “I would like that very much.”   
  
“That's it,” a familiar voice said behind him. “I've lost everything.”  
  
Eric turned around. Donna was standing there, and she looked incredibly disappointed.   
  
“How are you doing?” she said.  
  
He pulled her away from the Wheel of Fortune table. “Well, you know, I...” That pink light flickered again at the corner of his eye—another casino lantern? “Donna, I...” He stopped. If he told her now about his success, it would cheer her up, and that would be great. Or he could keep it to himself for a little while, see how much the others had made, and maybe get her that something special to make her really happy.   
  
“How are you doing?” Eric said.  
  
“I just said I lost everything.”  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, right. Me, too.” He took Donna's hand. “Let's get some fresh air,” he said and led her to a balcony.   
  
Donna was frowning, and Eric hated to see that, but the balcony was actually quite nice. It was draped in all kinds of flowers, stars winked above them in the night sky, which made this a perfect spot for romance and—man, he really was a girl.  
  
Donna rested her elbows on the balustrade and gazed up at the moon. Even sad, she was beautiful. “We are never going home,” she said. “We're gonna be stuck here for the rest of our lives. I should feel terrible.”  
  
Eric blinked. “Wait, you don't?”  
  
She laughed and slid her arms around his waist. “I think this place is—it's kind of like the circle, only I'm not as hungry.” She was smiling now.   
  
She was gorgeous.  
  
“Donna, I have to tell you something.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Something has just happened to me—”  
  
“Me, too.”  
  
“I've just—it has?”   
  
She moved closer to him, and the warmth of her body made him forget everything else. “Yeah. I get it now.”   
  
“Well, would you mind,” he swallowed, “cluing me in?”  
  
“You do have a great destiny,” she said. “Me.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I'm your destiny, Eric. That's why the Gypsy Queen had nothing to tell me. She already said it to you: I'm your destiny, and I am great.”  
  
“Lady,” he brushed his lips against her cheek, “you sure are.”   
  
She giggled—he loved it when she giggled—and her fingers slipped into the back pockets of his pants. He buried her face in her hair. It smelled like—well, hair. But  _ her _ hair, and it didn't make him sneeze. It made him want to...   
  
“We'd better check on how Hyde and the others are doing.” Donna pulled away and left the balcony without him.  
  
“What the—?” Eric leaned over the balustrade and glared at the town below. “You'll let a guy get only so close to a kiss before ripping it away from him? Well, you know what I say to that?” He blew a raspberry.  
  
When he returned to the casino floor, he found Donna standing by Hyde's card table.  
  
“And Mrs. Bone The Butcher's Wife makes another complete set,” Hyde said. He put down his cards and raked in the pot of chips.  
  
Donna applauded. “Well done, Hyde!”  
  
“Yeah, I'm up over six hundred.”   
  
Seconds later, Kelso walked up to them. He pulled the inside of his jeans pockets out. “Well, I'm broke.”   
  
“Huh. You lasted longer than I thought,” Hyde said.  
  
“Not really. I swiped a few coins off Jackie.” He reached toward Hyde's stacks of chips. “How much you got there?”  
  
Hyde slapped his hand away. “Six hundred, but it's not enough. I'm not gonna break the bank playing Happy Families.” He nodded to an area cordoned off by red velvet rope. “I gotta get over to the high roller section.”   
  
“What are they playing over there?” Donna said.  
  
“Who cares?” Hyde said. “All the people here are chumps. Hey, do me a favor.” He pointed to a section of slot machines. “Get me a bucket for these chips.”  
  
“Sure.” Donna disappeared between aisles of Bunny, Bunny, Bunny and Diamond Carrot slots.  
  
“Excuse me,” someone said loudly by Eric's ear. Eric turned around. A man wearing a black uniform was standing next to him with an eager expression on his face. The gold rabbit pin on his lapel made Eric think he was someone important, like a casino manager. “We are—”  
  
“Not here,” Eric whispered and led him away from the card table.   
  
“We are still waiting for you to collect your winnings,” the casino manager said.   
  
“Yeah. Okay.”   
  
Eric followed him to the cash desk. That old Elf was there with a huge grin and a huge wad of bills in his hand.   
  
“They say money doesn't bring you happiness,” the Elf said to Eric, “but it certainly brings a smile to my face.” He tapped Eric's shoulder with his fancy cane before moving off.   
  
Man, Eric hated that guy.  
  
“Ten thousand gold Fezes!” The casino manager took a sack of money from a cashier. “Would you like to check it, sir?”  
  
“No, thanks.” Eric snatched the sack from him and hit it under his coat. “Bye.”   
  
He wanted to get out of there before Donna came back, but his way out of the casino was blocked by applauding casino workers and gamblers. No other option. He shoved his way through them and got outside. And then he froze. What the hell was he doing? He'd just gotten enough to buy back the mirror, and that old Elf would be sure to put a huge bid on it. Eric had to go back inside the casino, tell Donna that he'd...  
  
More pink light glinted at him from—somewhere—and an odd but pleasant buzzing started up in his chest. Memories of making out with Donna in the Vista Cruiser flooded his mind. He was going to surprise the girl he loved with something great, something that would make her remember just how much she loved him.  
  
He rushed down the street. 


	31. No Risk, No Reward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 3:** “Lady” (C) 2004 Styx and A &M Records

CHAPTER 31  
**NO RISK, NO REWARD**

The high rollers' section was smokier than the rest of the casino. Hyde had told Donna and Kelso not to follow him there. His Zen worked best if he didn't have to deal with diversions like Donna's fear and Kelso's general idiocy. Forman had run off somewhere, so he wasn't a problem, and Jackie was still playing slots. She'd apparently had some luck. Good for her.  
  
Hyde walked through the section in search of a game he thought he could win, but he paused at an unoccupied table. A barely-smoked cigar was smoldering in a silver ashtray. He glanced around. Then he stuck the cigar in his mouth, took a drag, and... still disgusting. Man, what was the point in smoking something if it didn't make things funny?  
  
“Hyde.” Laurie's unwelcome voice echoed below him. “I know you're there, Hyde.” Her face was smiling sweetly from the polished surface of the ashtray. “Why is it I can see you, and I can never see your stupid friends?”  
  
Hyde pulled the cigar from his mouth and shrugged.  
  
“Who's protecting them?” she said.  
  
He shrugged again.  
  
“Has this girl got you by the 'nads?” Laurie's smile turned into sneer. “That's pathetic. If you'd killed her when I told you, this would be over.”  
  
“Whatever.”   
  
“That game is so played out, loser. You're totally part of my plan.” The sweet smile returned. “You've always been.”  
  
Hyde stubbed the cigar out on her face, only it wasn't her face any more. Just a damn ashtray.

***

Jackie hated when she wasn't the center of attention, especially Steven's. He'd been playing High Stakes Slapjack for hours—and didn't seem to notice she was watching him. His opponents were a rich and wrinkled old lady, a rich middle-aged man who smelled faintly of cheese, and a rich Dwarf who wore a nice gray suit-and-tie combo.  
  
Steven pulled a card from his stack and tossed it face-up onto the game pile. It was a Jack. The rich old lady reached for it, but his hand got there first and slammed onto the pile. He'd won again.  
  
Jackie suppressed a cheer as Steven added three more stacks of chips to his already impressive winnings.  
  
“The stake's increasing to five-hundred gold Fezes-a-hand,” the dealer said.  
  
The rich middle-aged man gathered up his remaining chips. “Too heavy for me,” he said and left the table.  
  
“Later,” Steven said. “Come back when you got more money.”  
  
Oh, Jackie loved it when he acted cocky—towards other people, not her. And she really wanted to sit on his lap and bask in his success. Instead, she hung back and kept quiet while the dealer shuffled the deck for the next round.

***

Eric had come to the best restaurant in Kissing Town, according to the three couples he'd asked for suggestions. The lights were out, but he didn't care. He banged on the door anyway. The buzzing in his chest had turned into a roar. He was in love, damn it, and there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for his special lady.  
  
He beat on the door until a bearded man in pajamas and a chef's hat opened it.  
  
“Is this the best restaurant in town?” Eric said.  
  
“Do you know what time it is?” The chef started to push the door closed. “Go away.”  
  
Eric put his foot between the door and the door jamb to keep from being locked out. “No, I want to make a reservation! I need the entire restaurant. It's for a marriage proposal.”  
  
The chef pushed the door harder, but Eric pulled a wad of cash from his sack of winnings and showed it to him. That had done it. The chef eased up and let him in.  
  
“You have to start work immediately,” Eric said and shoved the money at him. “I want romantic food, okay? Nothing I could get at Fatso Burger.” The chef stared at him as if he were crazy, but Eric continued. “Food that will put love on her mind and me in her heart.”   
  
The restaurant was glowing with a pink hue, and Eric put his arm around the chef's shoulders. “I want her to feel as if she's had a meal that's changed her life. This,” Eric pumped a fist into the air, “must be the greatest meal ever cooked in the history of mankind.”  
  
“I am the greatest chef in the Nine Kingdoms.” The chef clutched Eric's money to his chest. “People travel hundreds of miles to eat my food.”  
  
“Yeah? Well my lady's from a little place called Wisconsin, buddy, so she's gonna have mighty big expectations.”  
  
The chef went down a hall to wake up his kitchen staff, and Eric nodded in satisfaction. His girl was going to be impressed, all right. After everything he was going to do for her, how could she not be?

***

Jackie's feet had begun to hurt from standing so long. She was bored and she was tired, and with each round she'd inched closer to Steven's table. Her hip was leaning against the back of his chair now, but he still didn't seem to notice her. His eyes were focused on the game pile, and his arm twitched each time one of the other players put down a card.   
  
Finally, the rich Dwarf threw out a Jack. Steven's hand shot to it half-a-second earlier than the Dwarf's.  
  
Steven chuckled and raked in his new winnings. Then he glanced behind him—at Jackie. So he knew she was there after all. Had he known all along?  
  
Without a word, the Dwarf hopped out of his seat. Only the old lady was left, and her stash of chips was as big as Steven's.  
  
“Jackie,” Steven pulled the Dwarf's vacated chair next to him, “you can sit—if you keep your trap shut.”  
  
_ Oh, thank God.  _ She sat down, relieved to be off her feet.  
  
The dealer shuffled the deck, and Steven's hand cupped Jackie's knee. If he wanted her to stay quiet, that wasn't helping. All her unspoken wishes crackled up her thigh like little lightning bolts. She crossed her legs to shut them down, and Steven seemed to get the hint because his hand slipped off her. Then he leaned back casually while the dealer dealt the cards. His confidence was so foxy.   
  
He really needed to win the rest of the money already.

***

Early morning washed Kissing Town in soft golden light, a perfect beginning to what Eric knew would be a perfect day. He had a ton of money left to buy the mirror, even after all the preparations he'd made for his lady love. Oh, yes. Donna was going to be pleased.  
  
He passed by a bakery, a florist, and a jeweler's on his way back to the casino.  
  
A jeweler's.  
  
Eric slapped his forehead. “You dumbass! You almost forgot the most important thing.” Then he pressed his nose against the store's window. Sapphire pendants, pearl earrings, and diamond rings all sat on on their own velvet pillows. “Oh, yeah...”   
  
He ran into the store. The jewelry inside was even more stunning than that in the window. Sparkling bracelets and glittering crowns and a wall full of elaborate-looking cuckoo clocks, but Eric only cared about one thing: the glass counter where the rings were being kept. He hurried over to it, and the jeweler greeted him there.  
  
“A very good morning to you, sir. How may I serve you?”   
  
“I need an engagement ring.” Eric dropped his sack of winnings onto the counter and examined his choices underneath the glass. “And not just any ordinary ring with a diamond so small people think it's, um... dust.”  
  
“We don't sell ordinary rings, sir.” The jeweler said. “Tell me a little about the lady. Is she a big girl?”  
  
“Oh, yeah—no! I mean, in all the right places.”  
  
“Plain or pretty?”  
  
Eric narrowed his eyes. “What? You think I'm too skinny to get a gorgeous redhead? 'Cause I did, mister. Oh, yes. The Kid got his pretty lady.”   
  
“Most assuredly, sir.” The jeweler laced his fingers together. “I am simply trying to fit the ring to the lady. Some rings might overwhelm a lady.”   
  
“Well, she was underwhelmed the last time, so...”  
  
The jeweler pulled an open wooden box from the display case. “Then I shouldn't insult you by showing you these everyday gold-and-diamond engagement rings.”   
  
Eric scoffed, and the jeweler shut the box.  
  
“Or even these.” The jeweler pulled a silver box from the case and opened it. Rings woven with pink flowers quivered inside. “Handmade by Royal Dwarves.”   
  
“Royal Dwarves?” Eric reached for a ring, but the jeweler shut the box before he could touch one.  
  
“Feast your eyes instead on these.”   
  
The jeweler opened a golden box. Six rings were bouncing inside it on a velvet cushion. These had to be magic. Their jewels glowed with inner light, and Eric swore he heard dainty voices saying, “Choose me! Choose me!”  
  
He wanted to.  
  
“I don't wish to be indelicate, sir, but these rings are disgracefully expensive.”  
  
Eric showed the jeweler his sack of winnings. “Money? Hah. The Kid doesn't worry about money.”   
  
“You're my kind of gentleman, sir,” the jeweler said. He shut the box's lid, and Eric barely pulled his hands away in time.  
  
“But those were nice,” Eric said.  
  
“No, no, sir.” The jeweler wagged a finger at him. “I have something unique in mind for you.”  
  
He unlocked a box enameled in iridescent mother-of-pearl. Sitting inside on a bed of tiny flowers was a golden oyster. The oyster threw off gold sparks as its two halves opened, and Eric heard what was inside before he saw it:  
  
_ Lady, when you're with me I'm smiling. Give me all of your love... _   
  
Eric's mouth dropped open. A giant pearl set in a gold band was gleaming within the shell.  
  
“Is that ring—did that ring just—?”  
  
“It is a singing ring, sir,” the jeweler said.   
  
“And it knows Stix!” Eric's eyes widened. “I gottta have it.”  
  
“The lady who slips this upon her finger will have no choice. She will simply say, 'I do.'”   
  
Eric gasped. “Are you sure?”  
  
“No singing ring has ever received a rejection.” The jeweler raised his eyebrows.  
  
“Ever?”  
  
“Comes with a lifetime love guarantee.”  
  
“I'll take it,” Eric said.  
  
“It's yours,” the jeweler closed the golden oyster and placed it on the display counter, “for the paltry sum of seven thousand gold Fezes.”  
  
“Seven thousand?” Eric grabbed his sack of winnings and started to panic. “Seven thousand!” If he bought the ring, he wouldn't have enough left over for the mirror.  
  
“Is there a problem, sir?” the jeweler said. “There are more modest rings for less important ladies.”  
  
“No!” The room had gone all pink. “No, no, no,” Eric said. “I'll take it.

***

“One more for the pot, dearie?” The rich old lady shoved all her chips to the center of the table. She'd had lipstick on her tooth for the last three hours, and Jackie had probably spent more time staring at the ruby-red smear than at the game.  
  
“You've won over four-thousand, Steven,” Jackie said. It was the first time she'd spoken in almost eight hours, and her voice sounded less dulcet than usual. “You can stop now.”  
  
“Four grand may not cut it,” Steven said. “One more game for the whole boatload.” He started to push every bit of his hard-earned winnings into the pot.  
  
Jackie grabbed his arm. “What are you doing? You've been playing all night. You're too tired.”  
  
“Whatever.”   
  
“Steven—”  
  
“Jackie, I can take her.”   
  
“You better.” She slumped back against the chair and resumed staring at the old lady's lipstick-covered tooth. She didn't like that Steven wasn't listening to her, especially because she was right, but at least he'd ignored her in a way that acknowledged her existence. That was progress.  
  
Forty-five seconds into the hand, a crowd of onlookers surrounded the table. Donna and Michael were among them, and Eric showed up a moment later. Jackie was afraid to move even a finger to scratch her nose, but Steven and the old lady were both as Zen as she'd seen anyone be. They flipped cards in turn, and each time Jackie's stomach would drop.   
  
A Six of Spades. An Ace of Hearts. A Two of Hearts, and then the old lady put out a Jack.   
  
Steven's hand shot forward—  
  
And landed on top of the old lady's wrinkled fingers.   
  
Steven withdrew his hand. “Damn it.”  
  
“Sorry, dearie,” the old lady said. She flashed him a lipstick-toothed grin. “Better luck next time.”   
  
Steven watched sullenly as the old lady swept the giant pot of chips toward her. Jackie rubbed his arm. She wanted to tell him it would be okay, but she wasn't sure it would be.  
  
“No!” Eric shouted. “How could you lose?”  
  
She glared back at him. “Hey! He did better than the rest of us put together, so shut your twitchy trap!”  
  
“But he lost!” Eric said.  
  
“Oh!” Jackie stood. She was going to shut his twitchy trap for him, but Steven caught her elbow.  
  
“Jackie, it's okay.”   
  
“But, Steven, he didn't see how hard you worked. Hours and hours of boring—I mean, _exciting_ work.”   
  
“No, it's really okay. Look.” Steven gestured to the old lady.   
  
“Well, you certainly have been lucky to me,” the old lady seemed to be talking to someone underneath the table, “so a deal's a deal. I expect you want a biscuit more than you want this money, though.”  
  
Jackie ducked down. Fez was sitting under the table with Donna's “Lucky Gambling Dog” sign around his neck. She popped back up. The old lady was gone, but half her chips were left on the table.  
  
Fez stood on his hind legs and placed his front paws on the table.   
  
“Fez?” Donna said.  
  
“He's always had a way with the older women,” Michael said.  
  
Steven scooped the chips into his bucket. “Let's get these cashed and our asses to that auction.  
  
“Oh! The auction!” Jackie said. “It's probably started already.”   
  
They redeemed their winnings at the cash desk and ran out of the casino. The next street over was packed with people. Eric shoved his way through them, shouting, “Excuse me! Excuse me!” then suddenly stopped.  
  
The rest of them caught up, but Jackie instantly wished they hadn't. At their feet lay an old man, quite bloody and quite dead. Eric seemed to recognize him.  
  
“That's... that's the old Elf,” he said.  
  
“Sliced him for his money,” a woman said from the crowd.  
  
“Move it along.” A man wearing a gold badge on his lapel stepped forward. “It's just a dead Elf. Go home. His wings ain't flapping anymore.”  
  
Michael walked up to the man and shook his hand. “Michael Kelso, Point Place P.D. What exactly do you mean by 'wings ain't flapp—'”  
  
Donna pushed Michael forward. By the time they all arrived at the auction house, the auction was underway. The auctioneer's voice echoed down the hall   
  
“For the final time, I am bid three thousand, eight hundred gold pieces,” he said. “May I remind you that this mirror is dated Early Cinderellan with potential magic qualities. Any advance?”  
  
Eric snatched the pouch of winnings from Steven's hand and raced ahead of them.  
  
“Going once... going twice...”   
  
“Five thousand!” Eric shouted. He waved the winnings pouch over his head. “Five thousand!”  
  
The auction hall's audience collectively stared at him.  
  
“Five thousand?” the auctioneer said.  
  
“Yes,” Eric said.  
  
“Will anyone increase on five thousand gold Fezes?” The auctioneer glanced around the room. “Five thousand going once...”  
  
Jackie looped her arm around Steven's and pulled herself close to him. When he didn't grump about it, her heart beat so fast she felt it in her fingers. They were going to win the mirror, and she was going to win Steven back.  
  
“Going twice...”  
  
“Ten thousand,” a man said from the back of the hall.  
  
Jackie stiffened and clutched Steven's arm even tighter. She'd never forget that cold, soft voice—but she looked behind her anyway. The Huntsman was leaning against a marble fireplace. Smoke curled from his pipe, and he seemed far too healthy for a man who'd been caught in a bear trap.  
  
“Oh, my God,” Donna said. “It's him!”   
  
“How'd he get ten thousand?” Michael said.  
  
Steven slid his palm down Jackie's wrist and grasped her hand firmly, as if he were afraid the Huntsman might take her again.  
  
“Any advance from ten thousand?” the auctioneer said.   
  
Jackie began to shake. She was helpless to do anything. They all were.  
  
“Sold!” The auctioneer banged his gavel. “To the gentleman with the pipe. Your name, sir?”  
  
“Mr. Hunter. I'll pay immediately.” The Huntsman limped up to the auctioneer while the auctioneer's assistants brought the mirror into another room.  
  
“He's got the Elf's cane,” Eric whispered. “That's how he got the money. He killed the old Elf!”  
  
“Well, come on! We can't just stand here.” Donna ran towards the other room with Eric and Michael.  
  
“I can,” Jackie said, but Steven pulled her along.  
  
“Hold it!” a guard said. Two of them were standing in front of the room's door. “Only purchasers allowed in here.”  
  
Something gold drew Jackie's attention. She turned to the auction block. A hideous golden statue stood on it, depicting three Trolls.  
  
“The next item in the auction,” the auctioneer said, “is a remarkable Troll work in 22-carat gold, entitled 'Frozen Rage'.”   
  
“ _Eww,_ ” Jackie said. Those had to be the Trolls who'd kidnapped her and Donna. Who the hell would bid on such a thing? Steven dragged her away before she could learn.  
  
Once outside, they ran to the other side of the auction house. A stone staircase led up to a tower, and a guard was standing by the back exit.   
  
“Is there a guy in there buying a mirror?” Eric said.  
  
“Was,” the guard said. “Just left.”  
  
“Where'd he go?” Donna said.  
  
The guard shrugged. “Not paid enough to care.”  
  
Eric tossed him a few gold coins.  
  
“Thanks,” the guard said, “but I still don't know.”  
  
Eric thrust the whole pouch of winnings at him, but Steven grabbed it first.   
  
“Forman, you and Donna go east,” Steven said. Then he pointed at Michael and Fez. “You two go west, and _we_...” he gestured to Jackie and himself, “will go party 'cause I got five thousand gold coins.”  
  
“N'uh-uh!” Michael lunged at him, but Steven tossed the pouch to Jackie.   
  
“Hey, quit screwing around!” Donna said. “We have to figure out what to do.”  
  
“Okay, we're not going to find the Huntsman or the mirror if we're all miserable.” Jackie poured two handfuls of coins and gave them to Donna. She gave another two handfuls to Michael. “So go off, have some fun, and maybe the Huntsman will find us.”  
  
Steven nodded. “Small grasshopper speaks wisdom.”   
  
_Small grasshopper?_ Jackie's heart filled her whole chest, expanded into her throat and stomach. He'd just used his nickname for her. In front of their friends. In public.   
  
“I agree,” Eric said, and Donna glared at him. “Let's meet back here in, say, four hours?”  
  
“Eric—”  
  
But Donna couldn't finish her sentence. Eric had already starting pulling her down the street. She struggled for maybe half a second before she gave in. Michael looked at Fez and shrugged. Then they walked off together in the same direction.  
  
Jackie frowned. Maybe she hadn't made such a good suggestion after all. The mirror could be anywhere by now. Why did the Huntsman even want it?  
  
“Jackie—” a heart balloon drifted into Steven's face, and he batted it away. “Let's see if we can find a pin.”   
  
He took Jackie's hand again, and all thoughts of mirrors and Huntsmen evaporated. 


	32. Always Yield. Always!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 32  
**ALWAYS YIELD. ALWAYS!**

Kelso and Fez were sitting at the bar of the Ho Ho Ho Hotel, and disappointment filled every inch of Kelso's body. They had no mirror, and the name of the hotel had completely misled him.  
  
“I don't understand it,” he said. “The Huntsman just disappeared!”  
  
“And what is your plan now, Kelso?” Fez said.  
  
“To get blind, stinkin' plastered! Bartender, a bottle of beer for me and a doggy bowl of beer for my furry friend.”  
  
“We only serve cocktails, sir,” the bartender said. “Cupid's First Blush. Some Enchanted Evening. A Long, Slow Spell Against the Wall...”  
  
“Cupid's First Blush sounds intriguing,” Fez said. “Is Cupid a whore?”  
  
“No, he's a baby who turns chicks into whores by shooting arrows at them,” Kelso said.  
  
“Oh, then I  _ will _ have one of those.”  
  
Kelso scratched Fez behind the ears and ordered their first drinks.

***

Donna climbed down the stairs of the Ho Ho Ho Hotel and found Kelso and Fez at the bar. She really wanted to join them and get wasted. They were already halfway there, talking and barking it up with Eric. Several empty cocktail glasses were set in front of them, along with a doggy bowl and a half-full dish of peanuts.   
  
“Donna,” Eric had spotted her and stood up, “my love, my lady, you look beautiful!” He was wearing a crimson suit that made him look more manly than his usual clothes did—and quite handsome.  
  
She, however, had just woken from a nap she hadn't wanted to wake from. The Huntsman had taken their mirror, their only way home, and she didn't know why.  
  
“Are you ready for our date?” Eric said.  
  
“You know, Eric,” she sat on the bar stool next to Kelso, “I don't really feel like going.” She picked up a peanut then dropped it back into the dish.  
  
“Oh, no!” Eric took one of her hands and patted it. “It's all planned.”  
  
“It's just—I'm not hungry.”  
  
“But, Donna, I've gone to a lot of trouble creating this, uh, spontaneous evening.”   
  
“Well, I...” Something pink flitted above her head—a butterfly?—and left a trail of pink sparkles behind it. Eric really did look handsome in that suit. “Okay.”   
  
Waiting for them outside the hotel was a two-horse coach. It was white and draped with purple flowers. Eric opened the door for her. Flowers of all colors were covering the seats along with boxes and boxes of chocolates.  
  
“Eric!” Donna laughed and crawled into the coach. She half-expected Fez to run out of the bar and jump in beside her.  
  
“ _ Shh,  _ you'll spoil the surprise,” Eric said. He was looking inside a pocket of his suit jacket.  
  
“Who are you taking to?” she said.  
  
He glanced up at her. “Uh, no one.” Then he waved his hand with a flourish. “To the restaurant, driver! Romance is afoot!”  
  
The coach started on its way once Eric was inside. He sat down and quietly counted backward, “Three, two, one...”  
  
Violins began to play a tune, but from where? Donna didn't see any musicians outside the windows.  
  
“Do you like it?” Eric said. She nodded. The melody was really beautiful. “It's a song I had specially composed for you. It's called 'This Time the Dumbass Will Do Things Right.'”  
  
The music sounded like it was playing directly above them. Donna stood up and stuck her head out one of the windows. Two violinists were sitting on top of the coach itself.  
  
“Oh, my God,” she said after she sat back down. “Eric, you did all this?”  
  
“Oh, yeah... and so much more.” He tucked a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. “This is just the beginning.”   
  
Donna smiled at him and squeezed his hand. She couldn't believe it. She had so many questions, but the sincerity in his face washed them all away.  
  
Soon, the coach pulled beside a restaurant with a scarlet awning. Donna stepped out onto the street first, and Eric offered his arm once he climbed out himself.   
  
“M'lady?”   
  
Donna rolled her eyes. He was such a dork, but a sweet dork. She took his arm, and they went into the restaurant.  
  
The maitre d' welcomed them at his podium. “Ms. Pinciotti, Mr. Forman, this way please.”   
  
“Eric,” Donna whispered, “he knows our names.”   
  
Eric merely smiled at her.  
  
The maitre d' brought them to their table, which seemed to be the only one in the whole place. It was covered in gold cloth, and the chairs were gold thrones upholstered in red velvet. Candelabras gave the only light, but it was enough. Scarlet draperies lined the walls—this restaurant had to be more expensive than the Vineyard. Was Eric planning a dine-and-dash?  
  
He pulled out a chair for her, and Donna sat down. Then he clapped once. A sommelier appeared out of nowhere and presented a bottle of champagne to him.   
  
Eric nodded and sat down himself. “Very good, my good man.”   
  
“Would you like your food served now?” the maitre d' said.  
  
“Well, we kind of need some menus first,” Donna said.  
  
Eric gestured as if what she'd said was nonsense. “I've planned our meal down to the last crumb, my lady love.”  
  
She rolled her eyes again. He was pouring it on really thick tonight, but she did find his devotion charming.   
  
He picked up a champagne glass. “A toast... to a great future. Out future.”  
  
Donna raised her glass. She liked the sound of that.

***

Jackie had spent the last thirty minutes with Steven searching for Kissing Town's ghetto. When they didn't find one, he settled on a side street with a cramped caf é . She would have preferred one of the more lavish restaurants they'd passed during their search, but at least they were together.   
  
She did have one demand, however. They had to sit outside, where one small table had been set up. She wanted him alone.  
  
“Man, this is totally lame,” Steven said from behind a menu. “How can a rich town like this not have an economically depressed neighborhood that it feeds off of?”  
  
Jackie pushed his menu down so she could see his face. “Love doesn't have a ghetto, Steven.”  
  
“Oh, yeah? You're looking at one.”   
  
“Whatever.” She picked up her menu and pretended to read it. “You think I'm one, too, so what do you know?”   
  
Steven's fingertips brushed her wrist,. “Jackie...” and closed around her hand. She peered up at him. His eyes were looking straight at her, warm and blue as the sky.  
  
And then they flicked away. Their waiter had come to take their order. But first, he spent an eternity telling them about the specials. Every time Steven tried to interrupt him, he started over from the beginning.  
  
Jackie grabbed the waiter by his glittery black tie and yanked him down. “Just bring us two of these,” she pointed to something random on the menu, “and get lost.”   
  
“A hearty choice.” The waiter bowed and scurried back into the restaurant.   
  
“Nice,” Steven said.  
  
Jackie smiled. “I have a way with people.”  
  
He smiled back, and her pulse tightened. It was time.   
  
“Steven,” she placed a hand over her heart, “I really,  _ really _ need to hear something. I won't be able to know what to say or what to do next unless you tell me that y—”  
  
“I love you,” he said quickly, and he said it while he looked at her. Tiny, happy stars exploded in her chest. That was the third time he'd ever said it to her, and as great as it made her feel...  
  
“That's not what I need to hear,” she said.  
  
“What?” Steven's expression darkened.  
  
“No, no, Steven,” she took his hand again, but his fingers went limp in her grasp, “I didn't mean it like that. I've been waiting to hear—to feel those words for so damn long.”  
  
“So...?”  
  
Jackie's grip on his hand loosened. “Do you believe I love you?”  
  
“Kinda got the idea while I was tied to that stake,” he said. “They way you were freakin' screaming... I never wanna hear you scream like that again.”  
  
“So that means...”   
  
“Yes, Jackie. I know you love me.”  
  
“Oh, Steven!”  
  
She leapt from her seat and kissed him. 

***

Cupid's First Blush wasn't a bad drink as far as drinks went. Neither were Cupid's second, third, fifth, and seventh Blushes. Kelso had arranged the empty glasses on the bar into an “F”. He'd need at least seven more to make an “E”. But he'd probably pass out before he got to “Z”. Getting drunk wasn't the same as being in the circle. No brilliant ideas came to him, he didn't find things funnier like the tacky Christmas-like decorations of the bar, but he was a little hornier—or maybe he was just his normal amount of horny. He was too drunk to tell.   
  
He put his arm around Fez, who'd drunk almost as many bowls of cocktails as Kelso had glasses.   
  
“I knew I was a bad cop, Fez,” Kelso said. “And not the kind of bad that's good while another cop is good—so you can get a perp to admit his guilt. I was just bad.” He took a sip of his eighth Blush. “But now I'm a lot better! I saved a man's life! Yeah, it was Hyde's, but it still counts.”   
  
He took a huge gulp of his eighth Blush. “But what does it matter? The P.P.P.D.—Pee-Pee... The Pee-Pee Police Department.” Kelso laughed. He'd been wrong about the things-not-being-funnier part. “The department thinks I'm a joke. They made me a crossing guard, Fez! What kind of role model is that for my kid? She'd be better off thinking I'm dead, especially if she thinks coyotes had something to do with it.”  
  
He raised his glass. “Here's to Michael Kelso, the biggest lameoid in the Ten Kingdoms. I suck.” He chugged the last bit of the pink drink down.  
  
“No, Kelso, I suck far, far worse,” Fez said. “This has been a test of kinghood, and I have failed. I have failed it as badly as I did licking my way to the center of a Tootsie Pop.”  
  
“Oh, come on. It's not your fault you had incredibly hot sex with an incredibly Evil Queen... who turned you into a dog afterward. That could happen to anyone. Hell, it basically happened to me after my first time with Laurie.”  
  
Fez put his chin on the bar and his front paw on Kelso's arm. “Kelso, I'm starting to forget things. Like my parents' names and great big chocolate chunks of my life. I can't even remember how I lost my virginity.”  
  
“Oh, you're better off forgetting that one.”   
  
“It is like—“ Fez hiccuped, “it is like someone is stealing my life from me.”   
  
He sounded so sad, and Kelso petted his furry back. If someone was stealing Fez's life, then Kelso would just have to steal it back for him.  
  
“Message for you, sir.” The bartender gave Kelso a folded-up note.  
  
Fez perked up his head. “Ooh, who's it from? Is it a lady? Does a lady want a piece of Fez?—oh, who am I kidding.” He put his head back down on the bar. “Not even that poodle I saw in Town Square wanted a piece of Fez.”  
  
“It's probably just from Eric or Hyde.” Kelso unfolded the note and read it aloud. “Take the dog and tie him to the post in the center of the town square. If you have not done this in fifteen minutes, I will smash the mirror into a hundred thousand pieces.”  
  
Kelso glanced behind him, but the bar was empty save for him, Fez, and the bartender.   
  
“Where did you get this?” He shoved the note in the bartender's face.   
  
The bartender seemed perplexed. “It was given to the doorman, sir.”  
  
“The Huntsman,” Kelso whispered to Fez. “How did he know we were here? Damn it!”   
  
He slammed his hand on the bar, and the “F” he'd made out of empty cocktail glasses bounced. “F” for “fool,” “F” for “failure”. He really should not have drank that much, not with such big responsibilities hanging over him.   
  
Kelso stared at the note. “What do we do now?”

***

The mashed potato Millennium Falcon was delicious. So was Donna's second glass of champagne. But most delicious of all was Eric. She couldn't stop looking at his face. His boyish smile always reminded her why she'd fallen in love with him.  
  
And he'd prepared such a wonderful evening to cheer her up. How he'd communicated what lightsabers were to the chef was beyond her, but when those plates of grilled vegetables had come out looking just like them, she was amazed. The whole night was amazing. Eric was amazing. He'd rescued her from the Huntsman, had stuck by her the whole time after they'd gone through the mirror even though they'd been fighting. He really and truly loved her.  
  
“Without a doubt,” Eric said, “you are the hottest girl in the Nine Kingdoms.”   
  
Donna banged her fist on the table. “Sing to me, Eric!”  
  
“What?”  
  
She laughed. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding. You've really made me feel special tonight.”  
  
“That's because you are, Donna.” He slipped his hand into a pocket of his suit jacket. “You should never have to feel like anything less than that even though I—”   
  
“Eric—”  
  
“No, listen. All I want, all I ever wanted was for you to be happy. If we had gotten married when we originally planned, you would have ended up with a miserable life and hated me for it. I could live with the last part, but not the first. That's why I didn't show up then.”   
  
Donna sighed. “I didn't hate you. I know why you did it. I just wanted you to—to talk to me about it instead of just leaving, you know? We could have faced it together.”   
  
“I know, and I know I did the same thing again when I decided to go to Africa.”   
  
“Yeah, you did,” she said, and then one of those butterflies flitted overhead. The glittering pink trail it left behind made her soften her voice. “But I've never been the easiest to... I yell.”  
  
“And you have a beautiful yelling voice,” Eric said.  
  
“I'm serious.” She stared at her half-empty glass. “I'm kind of like Red that way, and I'm sorry. I just have such a hard time trusting people—” she looked up at him, “and you're like, the person I trust most in the world.”  
  
“Donna, I'm so happy you said that because—”  
  
He didn't finish his sentence because she didn't let him. She'd leaned over the table and was kissing him. His lips tasted like champagne, and his tongue tasted like butter, but the kiss was more satisfying than either. They hadn't touched each other this way in so long, and she'd missed it. She'd missed him.   
  
Her hand lingered in his hair long after they parted. Eric might've been a scrawny little neighbor boy, but tonight all she saw was a prince.

***

Jackie was straddling Steven's lap. They'd been making out for twenty minutes, and she didn't want to stop. But she felt Steven pulling away.   
  
“I love you,” he said gently.   
  
She could have made love to him right there on the restaurant's table, only it was occupied by six steaming plates full of food. Apparently they'd ordered a sampling of all the restaurant's dishes.  
  
“Steven,” she laced her fingers behind his neck, “why did you say that again?”  
  
He shrugged. “Because I do.”  
  
“But it hasn't been a year yet since the last time you said you loved me.”  
  
“I wasn't counting.”   
  
His lips grazed her ear then traced her jawline. His beard fuzzed against her cheek, and he smelled like cigar smoke from the casino, but she didn't mind. She was just so happy to be with him again.   
  
“Are you enjoying your meal?” The stupid waiter was standing beside them.   
  
“Yeah. Go away,” Steven said.  
  
The waiter waggled his eyebrows. “The best meals here are the ones that go uneaten, if you understand my meaning.”  
  
“Get the hell out of here!” Jackie shouted. She threw an artichoke heart at him, and he retreated back into the restaurant. “Steven,” she said, “if that guy comes back out here, I'm gonna shove the roast duck up his nose.”   
  
“Why stop there?” Steven said. “You got a half a cow here you can cram. Look at the size of those steaks, man...”   
  
But he seemed as interested in eating as Jackie was. His fingers skimmed her shoulders and down her back, sending joyful shivers across her skin. When his hands reached even lower and palmed her butt, the shivers grew into surging pulsations. She slid her fingers underneath his shirt—but carefully. He was bruised from the beating he'd taken from those crazy farmers. They'd almost killed him then without the fire.  
  
He finally returned to her mouth. His breathing grew faster as their kisses grew deeper, and now she felt the rise and fall of his chest, and,  _ God _ , how precious his breath was to her. She pressed her hips into him with every soft movement of his tongue. She wanted the remaining distance between them to dissolve, she wanted to—  
  
Steven drew his lips away. He looked a bit pale. “You okay?” he said.  
  
“Very. Why?”  
  
“'Cause you're about to break my ribs.”   
  
Jackie relaxed her arms. She'd wrapped them tight around his back without realizing. “Steven, I'm so sorry. I just—”   
  
“Yeah, I'm irresistible. I'll just have to deal with it.”  
  
She laughed, but the chiming of bells engulfed her voice. Down the street, a bride and groom ran by with a retinue of celebrators tossing confetti. Steven didn't see them because they were behind him, and he didn't turn his head to look. He couldn't seem to keep his attention off her for even a heartbeat.   
  
This town definitely had special love powers. She had to take advantage of them while she had the chance.   
  
“Steven, what am I to you now? What are we?”  
  
He froze; then he patted her butt. “You're my chick, and we're fooling around. So let's get back to it.”  
  
He started to kiss her again. His lips were so warm, and he felt so good against her body, but she forced herself to pull away.  
  
“Wait,” she said.   
  
“What?”  
  
“Why did you think I didn't love you?”  
  
He didn't even hesitate. “'Cause you shoved an ultimatum down my throat and then made the choice for me by leaving. That move pretty much convinced me you didn't know what I was about.”   
  
“Steven—”   
  
“So I figured, you didn't know me, whatever you were feeling didn't apply to me. Oh, and then I found you with Kels—”  
  
“Steven!”   
  
“Hey, you asked.”  
  
“Do you know why I left?” Jackie said.  
  
“Does it matter anymore?”  
  
“I left because I wanted to marry you, to spend the rest of my life with you—and you didn't know if you felt the same way about me.”  
  
“To be fair, Jackie, you didn't give me a chance to figure it out.”  
  
“You had a few hours!”  
  
“Gee, thanks.” He sounded annoyed, but he was also stroking the back of her hair, and his eyes hadn't hardened at all.   
  
Jackie couldn't believe how easy this was, how they were able to talk about these things without him shutting down. She had to keep the momentum going, to push it, so she could finally,  _ finally _ get him to understand what she'd been holding onto for the last six months.  
  
“You should have known the moment I asked you,” she said.  
  
“ _ Told _ me.”  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever.” He smirked. “Be happy it took only two cases of beer to get me there. With anyone else, I would've died from alcohol poisoning.”  
  
“So you really would have proposed if I hadn't...”  
  
“Freaked out? Well, the El Camino did pull to the left, so... yeah.”  
  
“And if Michael hadn't been in the hotel with me?” she said.  
  
“Then we wouldn't be talking about this. Hell, let's do that anyway.” Steven leaned toward her, but she pushed against his shoulders and kept him at talking distance. “Jackie, come on.”  
  
She focused on his eyes. “So you saw a future with me.”  
  
“No.”   
  
“Wha...” Jackie shook her head and blinked a few times because she did  _ not _ just hear that. “'No'?”   
  
“No.”   
  
“Then why were you going to propose?”  
  
He shrugged. “I love you, Jackie, I wanted to be with you, but the future doesn't mean anything to me. I thought I'd be in prison by now.”  
  
“You  _ were  _ almost burned at the stake.”  
  
Steven smiled at her.   
  
It was so cute. It was unnerving. He should've been pissed off. Anywhere else, he would've been. She ran her thumbs through his beard, and his smile became a grin. He seemed so happy, despite her line of questioning, and she wished she could just shut up and enjoy it. But she wasn't finished.   
  
“Steven, a proposal is all about the future. Why—”  
  
He sighed. “Look, I never thought Bud would run off, but I was nine, so what did I know? Then it turns out I got another dad who gives me a freakin' record store, and—” he raised an eyebrow, “I fell in love with a girl I once told to hang herself with a headphone cord.”  
  
“Steven!”  
  
“My point is—Jackie, the future is like the government: you can't trust it. I go by what I got now. Everything else, the future, means shit to me.”  
  
“But it means something, maybe everything to me.” Jackie's body tensed, and as if he could feel it, Steven shifted the position of his hands so she was solidly in his arms. It was comforting even though his words weren't. “Look at where we are, Steven. We're in some weird, twisted fairy tale world, we don't know if we'll ever get home, and even if we do—there's no guarantee life there will be any better than it is here.”   
  
“So you see my point,” he said.   
  
“No. The only reason I've been able to deal with this place at all—” her throat felt suddenly dry, “is you.”   
  
“Man, that is bullshit. You handle yourself just fine. Hell, you didn't even lose it when I chopped off all your hair. You just bitched about it.”  
  
Jackie nodded; that was true. “Okay, well, how am I supposed to make any decisions about the future if I don't know I'll have you there?”  
  
“You got me now,” he said. “Base your choices on that.”  
  
“So you love me—” a sharp chill bit into her chest, “but only enough for today?” She pushed herself off his lap. She was shaking, and her fingers had curled into fists. “Am I just convenient for you?”  
  
“Convenient? Jackie, you're the least convenient chick I've ever hooked up with.”   
  
“Why do you love me, Steven?”  
  
He rose from the chair but kept his distance. “There's way too many damn reasons, but I'm only giving you one: You make me less pissed off.”  
  
It took all her will not to kick him. “What kind of answer is that?”   
  
“Y'see, I generally view life as a rotten, stinking pukehole, but when we're together—it's more like a muddy pit.”  
  
Jackie glanced at him sideways. “Uh-huh...”  
  
“Well, lots of fun can be had in a muddy pit,” he said, “and, yeah, it's dirty, but I like dirt, so that's a bonus.”  
  
“So you love me because I make life dirty... instead of nauseating.”  
  
“Exactly.” He moved closer to her and rested his hands on her hips. “You're also a helluva lot of fun... when you're not dragging us down with, say, planning the future. __ 'Cause you know what's at the end of all that planning? Death.”  
  
“Steven...” She shut her eyes, but her damn tears wouldn't stay put. “No one has ever made me feel as happy as you, as safe as you. All I want,” she opened her eyes and wiped her cheeks, “is to know you'll be there tomorrow.”   
  
He sighed again, a deep and heavy sigh. “Fine.” Then he pulled the eyeball ring off his pinky.  
  
“What are you—?” She didn't finish the question. Steven had closed her fingers around his ring.  
  
“So...” he said, “are we gonna get freakin' married or what?”


	33. Long Live the King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 3:** “The Best of Times” and “Babe” (C) 1995 Styx and A &M Records; “Lady” (C) 2004 Styx and A&M Records.

  CHAPTER 33  
 **LONG LIVE THE KING**

Kelso held a rope tied to Fez's neck, but Fez was the one leading him to Town Square. Kelso was too drunk to remember how to get there.  
  
“No. I—come on,” he said. “I can't let you do this, Fez. What if the Huntsman puts an arrow through both of us? We could be walking right into an ambush.”  
  
They passed by a couple who'd just gotten married. The street was choked with revelers, and someone tossed confetti into Kelso's face.  
  
“Wait a minute.” Kelso lightly tugged on Fez's rope. “The Square. He's gonna want to see me leaving you in the Square.”   
  
“So?” Fez said.  
  
“So he'd want a clear view, which means he's probably watching from somewhere—”  
  
“High in the sky!” Fez said.  
  
“Yeah. Somewhere where he could....”   
  
Kelso glanced up. The town square lay straight ahead, and the buildings were all two or three stories tall—except for one.  
  
“That tower,” Fez said, “connected to the auction house.”   
  
“That tower.” Kelso nodded. Fez really did make a good police dog. “That's where the mirror'll be. Don't look up. Pretend to struggle like I'm giving you a wedgie.”  
  
“I can do that.”   
  
Fez growled and dug in his paws and thrashed his doggy head. They came to a post at the center of the Square, and Kelso started to tie Fez's rope around it.   
  
“Just tie it loose,” Fez said. “I'll be faster than he is. I've outrun plenty of people who wanted to take a piece out of Fez's sweet ass.”  
  
“Yeah, the Point Place High football team really trained you up,” Kelso said. He finished the knot. “Okay, where are you gonna go? What if I can't find you?”   
  
Fez continued to growl and added a few barks in like he wanted to be let loose. “Don't worry. I'll find you,” he said.  
  
“Good luck, Your Highness.” Kelso almost gave him a hug but turned it into a stay-put gesture. Then he walked briskly—he was too drunk to run—down a a few side streets to the back of the tower. He climbed its outer staircase to a high window and pulled himself in.   
  
A load of junk cluttered the room—rusty swords, broken candelabras, stained tapestries. Stairs led up and down to different floors, and a dusty rug was draped over the crawlspace beneath them. Kelso needed a moment to think, but he didn't get it. Heavy footsteps were clomping down the stairs.  
  
He hid himself in the crawl space behind the rug. Just in time, too. The Huntsman passed by the crawl space seconds later. He was using a crutch, but he didn't seem to notice Kelso at all and went down the stairs to another floor.   
  
Kelso came out of his hiding spot and searched the room. The mirror wasn't here. He climbed to the next floor—and his reflection greeted him at the landing. The mirror was leaning against the wall. He ran to the mirror and tried to pick it up, but the thing barely budged.   
  
“Man,” he whispered to himself, “being drunk's made me weaker than Eric.”   
  
He took a deep breath and wrenched the mirror harder. Something behind him squeaked and rattled; then it banged. He turned around. A trapdoor had shut over the stairs.  
  
“Oh, no!” Kelso ran to the the trapdoor, and the mirror fell behind him with a thud. The door had no knob or handle for him to pull it up by. He was trapped. The Huntsman had set him up.

***

Two waiters carried out a three-tiered cake for dessert. Eric had designed it himself in the shape of the Water Tower, and he was quite proud of it. But he was far happier with Donna's response to it—because she was happy.  
  
“What an incredible night,” she said. Then she leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “This is gonna cost more than ten meals at the Vineyard.”  
  
Eric smiled at her. “I have a present for you.”   
  
“More?” Donna said.   
  
He placed the gold oyster onto the table, and his throat closed up as he watched the oyster open by itself. The ring inside threw off gold sparks. Then the pearl began to sing.   
  
_Tonight's the night we'll make history, honey, you and I.  
And I'll take any risk to tie back the hands of time...   
  
_The ring switched melodies and lyrics.  
  
 _You are the luckiest girl in the land  
'Cause we've got a beautiful wedding planned.  
  
_Donna stared at the ring. Then she looked up at Eric with a frown. “How have you paid for all of this?”   
  
Eric's smile froze on his face. “What?”  
  
“How have you paid for all of this? Jackie gave you enough for maybe the first course.”  
  
“Um...” he kept his voice casual, “I won the Jack Rabbit Jackpot last night.”  
  
“Last night?”   
  
Eric nodded.   
  
Donna's eyes narrowed. “You said you lost everything last night.”  
  
“Did I?” His forehead started to sweat. “I may have won a little.”   
  
“You said you lost everything.”   
  
“I know, but look!” He pointed to the ring. “It knows Styx, Donna! You'll have the coolest engagement ring in all of Wisconsin.”   
  
“You dillhole!” She pounded the oyster closed with her fist. “How much did you win?”   
  
Eric clasped his hands together and put them under his chin. “It was around ten.”   
  
“Ten what?”   
  
“Ten thousand.”   
  
Donna's mouth fell agape. “Ten thousand?” She slammed the table. “Ten thousand? We could've gotten the mirror back, and you spent it on stupid _Star Wars_ food?”   
  
“No!” He reached for her, but she pulled away. “I spent it on you.”  
  
Donna's face had become red. She was crying. “We could've gone home!” She slammed the table again and stood up. “Why did you do this?”  
  
“Because I love you?”   
  
“Eric, I love you, too, but...” her voice was barely a whisper, which scared him more than her yelling ever could, “I don't—I can't trust you anymore.”   
  
“Donna...” Eric was standing now, but Donna had already made her way to the front of the restaurant. “Donna, please don't—”  
  
The door banged shut.  
  
“—go.”   
  
Eric slumped back in his chair. If anyone had ever needed a stupid helmet, it was him. He was the King, King of All Dumbasses. He wanted to go home as much, as badly as Donna... so why, why had he wasted all that money on this crap?   
  
_Because she's my lady of the morning.  
Love shines in her eyes...  
  
_The ring was singing again. The gold oyster had reopened.  
  
“Oh, shut the fuck up.”   
  
Eric closed the oyster, stuffed it in his pocket, and left the restaurant. He had no idea how Donna was going to forgive him this time.   
  
He wouldn't blame her if she never did.

***

Jackie's heart beat faster than it ever had in her life. Steven's ring was warming in her hand. All she had to do was say yes, and everything she wanted most was hers.  
  
Steven's eyes were looking at her expectantly. They'd been so full of love since they got to this town. It was incredible. It was magic. It was...  
  
“No,” she said.   
  
Steven wrinkled his brow. “'No'?”  
  
“If you'd asked me anywhere but here,” her voice was shaking, “the answer would be different. But, Steven, this isn't you asking.”  
  
“Sure as hell sounded like me.”   
  
“But it's not. You don't say 'I love you,' not that easily and not three times in the same hour. You don't remain tender and sweet when we talk about things you don't like to talk about. And you don't propose.” Hot tears were running down her face. She'd never hated herself as much as she did right now. “This town has made you do those things, don't you understand? Whatever magic this place has, it's got you by the throat.”  
  
“Nothing _makes_ me do anything,” he said, and anger surfaced in his face for the first time since being here. “Jackie, of all people, you should know that.”  
  
“Back home, of course. But this isn't home. This is a place where Evil Queens turn pervy foreigners into dogs and wells grant wishes and— _God,_ Steven!” She looked to the sky and forced herself to stop crying, but her body was trembling along with her voice. “Baby, I've always wanted you to do what I say without question, but because you adore me—not because you're under some damn love spell.”  
  
He was frowning now, and his arms were crossed.   
  
Jackie placed a hand over her still-racing heart. “Look, just ask me again once we're out of Kissing Town, and I'll say yes.”  
  
“So now you're telling me how to propose.”  
  
“No, just where.”  
  
Steven closed his eyes—he probably wanted his sunglasses back really badly—but then he took a breath and opened them again.   
  
“Jackie,” he said, “you either trust me or you don't.”  
  
She stiffened. She had no way of answering that. Not here.  
  
Steven nodded. “Good to know.” Then he turned away from her and headed down the street.   
  
“Steven?”  
  
He kept walking.  
  
“Steven, where are you going?”   
  
He merely waved in response.   
  
“Oh, so you're just going to leave?” Jackie stood her ground. She refused to go after him. “After all the times you couldn't answer me? Damn it, Steven, you're acting like your stupid stepfather!”   
  
She slapped a hand over her mouth. The burn was below-the-belt. It was undeserved.   
  
“Steven, I'm sorry!” she shouted and started to run after him. But the street wasn't lit well, and he'd already slipped around the corner. “Steven!” she shouted again and heard only the echo of her voice.   
  
He was gone.   
  
Jackie trudged back to the café table and sank into her chair. Steven's ring had grown hot in her fist. The heat of it bit into her palm, but that pain was nothing compared to the searing ache in her chest.  
  
“Excuse me, miss?”   
  
The waiter had come outside, but Jackie didn't look up at him. She was staring at the plates of cold, uneaten food on the table.  
  
“How much is the bill?” she said dully.   
  
“Oh, I just came out here to tell you that the meal's on us,” the waiter said. He tutted. “We all saw how that young man broke your heart.”   
  
“No.” She pulled out the coin pouch and poured a bunch of gold Fezes onto the table. “He didn't.”   
  
This time, Jackie had broken it all on her own.

***

Fez had always wanted to be tied up, but not by Kelso—by a woman, who'd then do indescribably naughty things to his body. But this was not the time to ponder such things. The Huntsman's scent was in the air, a mixture of old blood and pipe smoke and sap. Fez spotted him by the auction house tower. His brown clothes and crossbow looked incongruent among the red balloons and pretty ladies in white dancing about Town Square.  
  
The Huntsman was limping toward him, and Fez took a step back. He had to time his escape just right.   
  
Someone threw confetti into the air between them, and Fez ran forward. The rope unraveled out of Kelso's fake knot and pulled free of the post. The Huntsman whipped his crossbow around, but Fez ducked into a crowd of revelers and continued to run. He had to put as much distance between him and that madman as possible.  
  
More people threw confetti. The crowd had grown thick with revelers, and Fez darted between many pairs of legs.   
  
“Return of the Prince!” someone shouted. “Happy Ever After!”   
  
Fez glanced up. A newspaper man was selling copies of _The Kingdom Times_ with a front-page article about the Prince. But Fez was the Prince. How could this be?  
  
A clacking noise reached him over the din of the revelers. Fez looked behind him and saw the Huntsman aim his crossbow.   
  
“Ai, no!” Fez sprinted through the legs of a woman and into an even denser part of the crowd.  
  
“Here he comes! Here he comes!” a man yelled.  
  
The revelers collectively cheered and applauded. The sky went white with confetti, and the crowd split apart into two halves.  
  
A coach—Fez's royal coach—sped down the street, and Fez's human body stuck itself out the window. The dog who now inhabited his body gave the crowd a thumbs-up with one hand while something round and lumpy dangled from the other. His human tongue lolled out the side of his mouth.   
  
Damn that Dog Prince.  
  
“Prince Fez!” a woman shouted. “He's slain the Troll King!”   
  
Fez got as close to the coach as he dared and, finally, understood what the Dog Prince held in his hand: the Troll King's bloody, severed head.   
  
“Born to be King!” the crowd cheered. “Born to be King! Long live Prince Fez.”   
  
Fez jumped onto his hind legs. It was a lie. _He_ was Prince Fez. It was a dog in that coach, and the sexy Evil Queen—whose name he would never speak or think again—was probably sitting beside him and laughing her sexy, evil laugh.   
  
Oh, how he missed her.

***

Kelso held the mirror flat against the auction house's roof. It was still light outside, so he could see where and how he needed to go. He'd been wrong before about not getting great ideas when he was drunk. Escaping through the tower window was freakin' genius.  
  
He removed one hand from the mirror and climbed over the roof's apex. But the mirror was too heavy. It slipped from his grasp and down the tiles.  
  
Kelso cursed, but the mirror didn't drop off the edge. The guilded framed had wedged itself against a shelf of deformed tiles.   
  
He took a deep breath. Luck may have abandoned him at the casino, but it was sure with him now. He scooted down to the mirror and picked it up with both hands. One more roof to go before he reached the street. Luck just had to stay with him until then.

***

Hyde bolted down side street after side street until he came to Kissing Town's boundary. The cobblestone beneath his feet turned into dirt, and the buildings around him turned into countryside with a flowing river. He looked down the road. A carriage dispatch lay just ahead. That was his ticket out of this hellhole. He needed to put as much distance between him and Jackie as possible.  
  
He walked along the river, staring at the dirt as he went—and then some jackass crashed into him. They both went tumbling onto the riverbank, but Hyde got to his feet and grabbed the guy by the collar.  
  
"Forman?"   
  
"I've lost her, man!" Forman's eyes were red, and his cheeks were wet. "For good this time. I've lost her."  
  
Hyde let go of him and sighed. "Crap. What did you do now?"   
  
Forman sniffled and pulled a golden oyster from his pocket. Then he opened it. The pearl ring inside started to sing.   
  
_Babe, I'm leaving. I must be on my way. The time is drawing near.  
My train is going. I see it in your eyes—the love, the need, your tears.  
  
_ “What the hell is that?” Hyde said.  
  
“A singing ring. An engagement ring.”  
  
_But I'll be lonely without you, and I'll need your love to see me through.  
So please believe me, my heart is in your hands, and I'll be missing you. _   
  
Hyde picked it up and shook it. “Does it know anything good like The Stones or Zeppelin?”  
  
“No.” Forman snatched the ring back. “I asked Donna to marry me, and you know what she did? She ran away.”  
  
“Well, of course she did, Forman. You got her a ring that only sings Styx.”  
  
“That's not why. I won ten thousand dollars at the casino, and—”  
  
“You what?”   
  
“I spent it on the ring and a whole bunch of other crap, hoping it would give Donna the night of her life— _damn it!_ ” He hurled the ring into the river. “What the hell is wrong with me?”  
  
Hyde slung his arm around Forman's shoulders. “The full answer would take way too long, man... but only one part applies here. This town fucks with people's heads. You were under its spell, man. You couldn't help yourself.”  
  
“Really?”   
  
“Yeah. If you didn't love Donna so damn much, this place never would've turned you into a moron.”  
  
“So you're saying,” Forman rubbed his chin, “this is actually Donna's fault.”  
  
“No, it's the town's fau—whatever. Just go back to the Square and have Jackie explain it to her. Then Donna will forgive you like she always does.”  
  
“You think so?” Forman wiped his eyes on his sleeve. Then he pulled Hyde into hug. “Thanks, man.”   
  
Hyde clenched his jaw but tolerated the hug. Forman was becoming more of a girl by the second—no. He'd been a girl since the day they met...  
  
Hyde shoved Forman off him. “Get your ass out of here before I kick it into the river.”  
  
“I love you, too.” Forman smiled at him and started back toward town. “See you in the Square?”   
  
Hyde nodded. “See you later.” He picked up a rock. Once Forman was gone, he chucked it into the river.  
  
“Aw, why so down, Hyde?” Laurie's face rippled in the water. “Is your widdle heart broken?”  
  
“Nope. That would require me having a heart to break.”  
  
“That's what I like to hear!” she said. “Will you come for me? Will you join me now?”  
  
He shrugged. “Got nothing better to do,” he said and headed down the road. 

***

Donna was rushing toward Town Square, but she couldn't really see where she was going. Tears blurred her vision too much. She occasionally bumped into people, but everyone seemed too happy to notice—except for the person she slammed into at the end of the street.   
  
“Watch it, you big moose!” a shrill voice shouted.  
  
“Jackie?” Donna rubbed her wet eyes. Jackie was standing in front of her, looking as devastated as Donna felt. “What happened to you?”  
  
Jackie didn't answer. She flung her arms around Donna's waist and cried into her shoulder.  
  
“Eric's such an asshole!” Donna blurted after ten seconds.  
  
Jackie loosened her grip and peered up at her. “What?”  
  
“He won enough money at the casino to buy back the mirror, and he spent it on presents and food instead!”   
  
“Did he get me anything?” Jackie said.  
  
“No.” Donna pulled away and crossed her arms. “It was all for me. Chocolate and flowers and a violin sonata! A full course meal at the most expensive restaurant in town and a singing engagement ring.”  
  
'Wait,” Jackie dried her cheeks with her sleeve, “he proposed?”  
  
“Basically. Can you believe it? We could've gone home!”  
  
Jackie put a hand over her heart. “Oh, that is so romantic.”   
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“Donna, Eric wanted to go home probably more than you did, but his love for you overwhelmed him so much that all he could think about is you.” Jackie pointed to the sky. “Haven't you noticed this town's special love powers? It made him dumber than he normally is.”  
  
Donna glanced up. Heart balloons were soaring through the air like flocks of birds. She hadn't been quite herself either since they came to Kissing Town. Every so often, even she'd forgotten about the mirror because when she looked at Eric—she felt like she was already home.   
  
“You know, I think you may be right,” she said.  
  
“Of course I'm right,” Jackie said. “No offense, but you can be really slow sometimes.”  
  
“Shut up, Jackie. That's such a load of bull.”  
  
“Is it?” Jackie held up her left hand. A blue eye stared out from her thumb.  
  
“Why do you have Hyde's ring?” Donna pulled Jackie's hand closer. “He hasn't taken that off since, like, the eighth grade.”   
  
“Because of this town's magic. He told me he loved me.”  
  
“Oh.” Donna smiled weakly. “That's great.”  
  
“He told me three times. And he also said he was  _in love_ with me.”   
  
“Hyde?”   
  
Jackie nodded. “Now are you starting to get it?”  
  
“Maybe.” Donna smiled again. She was feeling a little better. “So why are you so upset? You should be over the moon.”  
  
“Steven proposed to me, too.”   
  
“Oh, my God.” Donna covered her mouth. “You're all that orphan boy needed after all.”  
  
“I said no.”  
  
“You said no?” She shook Jackie by the shoulders. “How could you say no? That's all you've ever wanted!”  
  
“Because I'm not sure he—” Jackie's voice hitched, “really meant it. If he'd asked me anywhere but here, anywhere, I would've—” she started to cry again, “and then I said something horrible to him—and now I don't know where he is!”  
  
Donna hooked her arm around Jackie's and started to pull her toward Town Square. “Don't worry about it,” she said. “He's probably cooled off by now and waiting for us.”  
  
“You think so?”   
  
She nodded, more confidently than she actually felt.   
  
A few streets later, they were in Town Square. They walked to the auction house then around to the back where they'd all agreed to meet up. No one else was there yet.   
  
“What if they don't show up?” Jackie said.  
  
“They will. They have to.” Donna sat down on the stone staircase, and Jackie joined her.  
  
Moments later, something rattled above them. The rattling became a dark shadow that fell across their faces—and crashed onto the street in a thousand shards of light.  
  
Jackie and Donna both gasped. Gold and glass lay before them in a shattered mess. It was the magic mirror.  
  
Donna began to shake. They were never getting home now.   
  
“Oops! Sorry!” a familiar voice shouted above them.  
  
She peered up at the roof of the auction house. Kelso was sitting on the tiles awkwardly, still very much the King.   
  
  
  



	34. Seven Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

 CHAPTER 34  
 **SEVEN YEARS  
**

“I can fix it. I can fix it,” Kelso said.   
  
He'd been shoveling the mirror's broken shards into a sack for the last five minutes. Jackie and Donna had been yelling at him for the last ten.   
  
“You idiot!” Jackie shouted. “That mirror was our only way home!”   
  
She stomped past him into the heart of Town Square. He was glad for the breather. He felt bad enough as it was, and his buzz had completely worn off.   
  
“Uh, Kelso?” Fez said. He licked his doggy nose.  
  
“Not now,” Kelso said.  
  
Fez and Eric were standing beside him. They'd arrived just moments after Kelso had stolen the sack from a fruit vendor, but Hyde was still M.I.A. He'd probably scored with some chick around here. Lucky bastard.   
  
“I don't think Jackie is very happy with you,” Fez said. “Maybe you should not have been on that roof.” He sighed. “Kelso... Kelso, it feels like everything's going dog.”   
  
“Ah, that's just your imagination,” Kelso said, but he wasn't sure he believed that.  
  
“You just had to play 'hero,' didn't you?” Donna began to walk a circle around him. “You should have tried to find us! This isn't a game, Kelso! We're gonna be stuck here for the rest of our lives thanks to you.”  
  
“But—”   
  
Suddenly, Kelso felt tiny but strong hands shove him aside. Jackie had come back, and she started to pick up mirror pieces.  
  
“Jackie, quit helping him,” Donna said.   
  
“Yeah,” Eric said smugly. “Big boy broke it. Big boy fix.”  
  
“Eric?”   
  
“Yes, Donna?”  
  
“Go help Kelso.”  
  
Without a word, Eric crouched down and scooped up shards. Kelso stuck his tongue out at him.   
  
“Look!” a man in the Square shouted. “The mirror-breaker!”  
  
“There he is!” a woman said.  
  
Kelso glanced behind him, and he didn't like what he saw. A crowd was assembling.  
  
“Mirror-breaker!” the woman shouted.  
  
“He's broken a magic mirror,” the man said. “That's seven years bad luck!”  
  
Eric stood up and addressed the gathering crowd. “Come on, people. That's just a silly superstition, passed down by the... uh, establishment to... um, keep you from breaking stuff.” He pumped his fist in the air weakly, but his short speech seemed to shut people up.   
  
“Nice job, _Hyde,_ ” Donna said.  
  
“Someone's gotta do his job,” Eric said. “Where the hell is he?”   
  
Jackie crossed her arms and looked up at the sky, as if she was trying to keep herself from crying.  
  
Kelso had almost picked up all the mirror pieces, but he still felt the crowd's eyes on him. He glanced up. The crowd had grown in size. That couldn't be good.   
  
Kelso got to his feet. “Citizens of Love Town,” he said, “I believe in doing it. A lot. What I don't believe in is...” He shut up. A noise like galloping horses was echoing distantly from somewhere. It grew louder and louder until it sounded like the hooves were right over his head. But no one else seemed to hear them.   
  
Kelso covered his ears. Useless. The noise was in his mind... which meant he could make it go away. _Go away!_ he shouted in his thoughts.   
  
The galloping suddenly stopped.  
  
“You see?” he said to the crowd. “What you don't believe in can't hurt you.”  
  
A moment later, something heavy struck the back his skull.  
  
“Ow!” Kelso grasped his head and lurched around. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!” He peered down. A stone the size of his shoe was sitting on the ground.  
  
“What?” Donna said.  
  
“Check out that rock! It just—” He stared up at the clouds. “Man! What are the chances of that happening?”   
  
Donna, Eric, and Jackie looked at each other as if the chances were really good.   
  
“Guys,” Kelso said, “do you think the Road Runner's coming after me?”  
  
“Mirror-breaker, get out of town!” someone in the crowd said. “We don't want your bad luck here.”   
  
The crowd had grown even bigger, and it was pissed off. “Get out of town!” someone else shouted.  
  
Kelso raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, okay.”   
  
The crowd moved toward him, but Donna, Eric, and Fez had already started to run out of the Square. Kelso grabbed the sack of mirror shards and pushed Jackie forward. The crowd pursued them to the town limits, but not into the countryside.   
  
Mountains rose along the horizon into the darkening sky. The road from Kissing Town wasn't paved, and Kelso had no idea where they were going to go. Hyde was the one who'd generally led them...  
  
 _Hyde._  
  
“Guys,” Kelso said, “we gotta go back f—”  
  
“Steven!” Jackie shouted, but Donna grabbed her around the waist before she could run back to town. “Let me go, you goon! We can't leave without him!”  
  
Jackie struggled in Donna's grip, and her squirming gave Kelso the usual naughty thoughts. But somewhere buried within them, he wondered why she was getting this upset. It wasn't like she and Hyde were back together.  
  
“Steven!”   
  
Donna threw Jackie over her shoulder in a dead man's carry and took every pinch and every bite like a man. “Hyde can take care of himself,” Donna said. “He'll find us eventually... He has to.”   
  
They started down the road while Jackie screamed and shouted. Kelso hated leaving Hyde, too, but what choice did they have? That town of lovesick loonies would've ripped them to shreds.   
  
Kelso took the lead and ran ahead of them for awhile, if only to get away from Jackie's ear-piercing voice. Around a curve in the road he found a barn _—jackpot._ A weather-beaten and run-down jackpot, but still a good find. A little further down the road was a farmhouse. Maybe they could get some grub from there.   
  
His luck was improving already.

***

Eric's stomach felt hollow, like someone had used a giant apple corer on his body. He and Kelso were sitting on a pair of hay bales, and they'd spent the last two hours piecing the mirror back together in the barn. But giant gaps remained.   
  
“This is no good.” Eric gestured toward the mirror. “We need the frame, there are too many pieces missing—we've gotta go back!”   
  
“Yes!” Jackie said from a far corner of the barn. It was the most cheerful sound that had come out of her since they left Kissing Town. Her screaming had eventually decayed into crying, and now she spoke through her sobs. “We have to go to back. We have to.”   
  
Eric had no idea what had happened between Jackie and Hyde in Kissing Town. But by Jackie's behavior, it was either very good or very bad. Eric was worried about him, too. And that was the other reason he wanted to go back. Hyde, alone in this weird place... What the hell had he been thinking? Why the hell had he run off?  
  
Donna crouched on the dusty floor by the mirror. She started to flip over the shards.  
  
“Whoa, whoa, don't mess up the pieces,” Eric said.  
  
“Yeah!” Kelso said. “It took us hours to put those together,  _ Donna. _ ”  
  
Donna ignored them and flipped over shard after shard. They all had a black coating on the back of them.  
  
“What are you doing?” Eric said.   
  
“Look.” She showed him a piece with gold lettering on it.  
  
“Ah-hah!” Kelso said. “A clue. So there's a mystery afoot.” He started to flip over pieces, too. After a minute, they had a row of coating-side up shards with gold lettering—and an illustration of a dragon's head underneath.   
  
They were onto something.   
  
“Dude, it's gotta be a clue,” Kelso said. He read the letters. “Man red by the war of Rag Mount.”   
  
“Maybe it's about a battle,” Eric said.  
  
“No, you idiots.” Jackie crawled out of her crying corner. “It's not a clue. It's a maker's seal.” She rearranged some of the shards. “See? 'Manufactured'.”   
  
“That's it!” Donna said. “Manufactured by the war of—”  
  
“Rag Mounties?” Kelso scratched his head. His hair jutted out at odd angles.  
  
“No, that's an 'n'.” Eric had found another piece with writing on it and put it by the others. “Manufactured by the war of, uh...”   
  
Kelso pointed to a piece. “That looks like a 'd'... Drago?”   
  
“No, it's more of a gap than that,” Donna said. She rearranged the pieces again. “'Dragon'. Manufactured by the Dwarves of Dragon Mountain.”   
  
Fez padded over from a small bed of straw and glanced at the writing.   
  
“You know where it is?” Kelso said. He waited. Then, after a second, he said, “Fez knows where it is.”   
  
“Let's go!” Donna pushed herself to her feet.   
  
“Before any more bad luck happens,” Eric said.  
  
“Hey that's over!” Kelso brushed hay from his pants. “You know what we should do? We should stop by that farmhouse before we go and get some grub.”  
  
“ _ Mmm _ ... ba-con,” Eric said, and Donna laughed. It was the first friendly sound he'd heard from her since she left him at the restaurant. Maybe his bad luck was improving, too. 

***

“I don't think anyone's home,” Kelso said. He and Eric were standing on a stoop in front of the farmhouse. A large sign that said “Metal Merchants” was tacked above the door.   
  
“No, I heard something.” Eric knocked on the door for a third time.   
  
They both listened for any movement inside, and then that strange galloping noise kicked up in Kelso's skull again.  
  
“Why don't we check around the back?” Kelso said.  
  
Eric nodded, and they both jumped off the stoop. The galloping stopped abruptly, replaced by the creaking of the farmhouse door.  
  
“Oh, no, wait. It's fine,” Kelso said. Bad luck: one, Kelso: one. He turned to the now-open door.   
  
The Three Trolls, still uggo but not gold, glared at him from inside the farmhouse. They gasped at the same time Kelso did.   
  
“Oh, shit! They're back!” Kelso shouted and began to run.   
  
“Sniff a sandal,” said Burly. “It's them!”   
  
“Kill them!” Blabberwort said.  
  
Kelso shoved Eric forward, and Fez dashed by Kelso's knees. Eric bolted toward Jackie and Donna, who'd both gotten a head start.  
  
The Trolls yelled and cursed behind him. Then the curses turned into strange muttering. Kelso glanced over his shoulder. Bluebell had fallen to the ground. The other two were doubled over and banging on their legs.  
  
“Cramp! Cramp!” Blabberwort said, and she fell on her ass.   
  
Bury stuck out his leg. “Suck an Elf!” and dropped to the ground.   
  
They must have just been freed from their golden prison, and their muscles hadn't gotten used to being able to move yet. That was lucky. Kelso hurried to Fez and the others. They had to put as much distance from them and this place as possible.   
  
There was no going back for Hyde now.


	35. Uphill Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 35  
**UPHILL BATTLE**

Kelso stuffed a cast iron pan into a leather backpack and then a metal stirring spoon. Fez had led them into the mountains, and they'd come across an abandoned camping site. Eric and Donna were scavenging gear by a frayed tent. Kelso had no clue what had gone on between them in Kissing Town except that Eric did not look like a man who'd gotten lucky. Luck.  _ Blah.  _ He refused to believe in it anymore, starting...  _ now.  _   
  
“I came to Dragon Mountain once,” Fez said, “when I was a young pup—ai, no! I mean 'prince'. When I was a young prince.” Fez was sitting in the grass beside Jackie, who'd long since shut up about, well, everything. Not a good sign.  
  
“The entrance to the Dwarf Kingdom is somewhere up very high,” Fez said. “I can't really remember where.”   
  
Kelso finished packing up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He understood why Fez never told them about any of this in Point Place. He would have been laughed out of the basement.   
  
“Okay, let's get going.” Kelso gestured for everyone to follow him, and they continued their way up the mountain. Close to the camp, they passed by graves marked by mounds of rocks. Weathered flags and shields with different coats-of-arms were sticking out of the ground.  
  
“I do not remember much of anything lately,” Fez said. “I'm going more and more doggy.”   
  
Kelso frowned and patted Fez's head. He wished he had a bag of M&Ms or a dog biscuit to give him.   
  
A little further along, they spotted a wooden sign painted with the same dragon emblem as the busted mirror's. 

DRAGON MOUNTAIN  
QUESTING PERMITS REQUIRED

“What's a questing permit?” Donna said.   
  
“Something that permits you to quest, _d'uh!_ ” Kelso said. “Now where are we gonna get one of those?”  
  
“I don't think that matters.” Eric glanced around him. “There's nothing here.”  
  
“The entrance must be up the mountain some more,” Donna said.  
  
They moved on. To the left of the path were more ragged tents.   
  
“I wish I could remember if the dragons are still alive,” Fez said.  
  
Kelso did not like hearing that. He considered going back for one of those shields, but they hadn't helped the dudes in the graves much, had they? 

***

The mountainside was craggy and easy enough to climb. Fez clambered over the rocks ahead of them to lead the way while Kelso took up the rear—which allowed Kelso to stare at  _ Donna's _ rear for a whole hour. Sometimes he even touched it for courage. Lucky for him, she was too busy helping Jackie over the rocks to notice.  
  
Kelso touched Donna's butt again, and the galloping sound returned, louder than ever.  
  
Suddenly, the straps of his backpack tore. The pack sprang off his body before he could grab it, and he stared helplessly as it fell end-over-end down the mountainside.   
  
“No!” Kelso shouted. “Damn it!”   
  
The backpack flew off a ledge and hit the ground they'd left an hour ago. All the cooking supplies he'd gathered spilled out of the pack, far, far beneath them.  
  
Donna peered behind her. “Good job, Kelso.”  
  
“Wha—hey! I was touching your butt for courage, but all it gave me was bad luck,  _ Donna! _ ” Kelso smacked her butt, and she glowered at him. “Both straps broke at exactly the same time,” he said. “What're the odds of that? Like a zillion-to-one.”   
  
“Maybe you just didn't tie them right,  _ Michael, _ ” Jackie said. She was scowling at him, worse than Donna.  
  
“No, I tied them right,” Kelso said. “It's my bad luck!”   
  
Jackie smiled a fake smile. “Yeah, and we've got the best luck of all: traveling with you.”   
  
They reached a grassy plateau. Fez, Eric, and Donna walked up ahead, but Jackie kept giving Kelso the stink-eye.   
  
“What?” Kelso said. “Just say whatever you got to say 'cause you're really starting to creep me out here.”  
  
Jackie kicked him in the shin.   
  
“Ow!” Kelso bent to rub his sore leg. “And thank you for telling me!”   
  
“What were you doing on the roof of that building, Michael? With the mirror?”  
  
“You're still pissed about that? I said I'm sorry, like, a hundred times! I would've glued it back together if I could.”  
  
“You just don't ever think, do you?” Jackie said. “You can't be left alone for five minutes without a grownup supervising you.” She was using her bossiest, bitchiest tone. Kelso had thought he missed it. He was wrong. “What you did here is far worse than tossing me on a trampoline, burning down my house, or even cheating on me. It's your fault we had to abandon Steven!”   
  
“Hey, it's not my fault Hyde never met up with us,” Kelso said. “Something must have happened before I broke the mirror. He was with you last, wasn't he?”   
  
Jackie's posture stiffened. He was on the right trail.   
  
He cleared his throat and used his cop voice. “I seem to recall he ran off to Vegas after he found us about to do it in Chicago.” She didn't contradict him, so he continued. “And he went missing after you two left the Baa-Bar together, isn't that correct, Ms. Burkhart?” She still said nothing. “So what we have here is a pattern of behavior. If anyone's to blame for Hyde's separation from us, it's you.”   
  
Jackie's eyes narrowed, and her voice was a low growl. “I hate you.”   
  
“You know what? If it makes you feel better, go ahead,” Kelso said. “I'm used to it.”   
  
“Good,” she said.  
  
Jackie turned her back on him, and now he felt much, much worse. They'd already lost Hyde. Fez's brain was decaying into dog doo—and Kelso had seven years of bad luck to look forward to. Having Jackie hate him would make those seven years feel like seventy. What he really needed was a hug.  
  
The path across the grassy plateau soon split into two. To the right of them was a thick wall of trees. To the left was a field of low-lying vegetation, and both Jackie and Donna stepped in that direction.  
  
“Where are you two going?” Eric said. He gestured to the trees. “This is the path.”   
  
“No, that goes down,” Donna said. “It's sloping downwards?” She had a point. They had been walking down for a while. She gestured to the field. “This is the way up.”   
  
“That's not even a path,” Eric said. “That's, like, for goats. My path,” he paused for emphasis, “goes back up the hill, just around that curve there. I'd bet money on it.”  
  
Donna put a hand on her hip. “Fez, am I right?”   
  
“Kelso,” Fez said, “I demand a cuddle.”   
  
“But Fez—”  
  
“I said 'cuddle'!”  
  
Kelso bent down and scratched Fez's furry cheeks. Fez really was losing it. He wouldn't able to guide them anymore.  
  
“So, Kelso?” Donna said.  
  
“Eric's right. That's the way.” Kelso waved ahead of them.  
  
“Fine,” Jackie said. She looped her arm around Donna's. “You go your way. We'll go ours.”  
  
“All right, fine! Go!” Eric said.   
  
“Yeah, don't blame us when the dragons get you!” Kelso said, but Jackie and Donna trudged into the scrub without any hesitation. He didn't like this one bit. They needed to stay together, now more than ever. Why didn't they get that? “We're not going that way!” he shouted after them.   
  
“Okay,” Donna said.  
  
“Whatever,” Jackie said, and they both kept walking.  
  
“And you know why we're not going that way?” Eric shouted. “'Cause it's wrong!” He pulled on Kelso's sleeve. “Let's go.”   
  
They headed for the curve in the path. Fez wasn't following.   
  
“Oh, no—decisions,” Fez said. He barked once then ran to Kelso.   
  
“You're coming with us?” Eric said. “You know this is right, don't you?”  
  
The three of them rounded the curve. The path started to go up again.  
  
“Nice!” Kelso gave Eric a high five.  
  
“Damn right, it's nice. Why did Donna have to get so...” Eric's voice shifted to a higher pitch, “'That way goes down'?” He blew a raspberry.   
  
“Man, those chicks are so stubborn,” Kelso said. “Fez, you went with us because you know we're going in the right direction, right?”  
  
“No,” Fez said.   
  
“'No'?” Kelso repeated.   
  
“I only went with you because Donna and Jackie don't understand me.”   
  
“What's Fez saying?” Eric said. Kelso told him. “Oh, yeah? Well, Donna doesn't understand me, either.”   
  
Horses' hooves were galloping behind Kelso yet again. The sound made him move faster. Maybe he could outrun his bad luck this time.   
  
He tripped over a rock and stumbled into some bushes. When he came out, his hands, face, and clothes were covered with prickles.   
  
“Bad luck, Kelso?” Eric said  
  
Kelso's skin started to itch. He pulled prickles off him as fast as he could. “This burn totally sucks!”   
  
“Why?” Eric smirked at him. “'Cause it's the burn that keeps on burning?”   
  
Kelso flicked a prickle at him. “ _ No... _ because it's happening to  _ me! _ ”   
  
He managed to remove the rest of the prickles from his clothes by the time they reached the next plateau. The skin on his hands was red with blotches and itchy. His face had to look as bad, and it was definitely as itchy.   
  
“Well, at least Hyde isn't here to laugh at me,” he said.   
  
“Yeah.” Eric sat down on the grass near a rocky ledge. “I hope he's all right. Last thing he said to me was, 'See you later.'”   
  
“Wait, you saw him?” Kelso rubbed the backs of his hands together for an effective scratch.   
  
Eric nodded. “By the river just outside Kissing Town.”   
  
“I didn't see any river.”   
  
“It was on the other side,” Eric said.  
  
“Oh.” Kelso sat down next to him. “Why'd he go there?”  
  
“I don't know. I was too caught up with my own shit to ask.”   
  
“What shit?” Kelso said.  
  
“I'd really rather not talk about it.”   
  
Kelso shrugged. He really didn't want to hear about it.  
  
Fez hunkered down in the grass and rested his chin on Kelso's knee. “Kelso, I'm scared. I am losing my mind.”  
  
“No, you're not,” Kelso said. “Cut it out, okay?”  
  
“No, I am. More cuddling, please.”  
  
Kelso sighed and pet Fez's soft, fuzzy back. It was a good thing he was a dog, or this would've felt weirder than it already did.   
  
“That is nice...” Fez said. “Ai, no! It is happening. I'm going dog. I am going dog, and there is no going back.” He closed his eyes. “Nap time.”   
  
Kelso kept petting him. He didn't know what else to do.  
  
“So tired, Kelso. So tired all the time.”   
  
“I wish I was a dog.” Kelso scratched behind Fez's ears. “Someone to take care of me, feed me, so I wouldn't have to worry about anything.”  
  
“That's called your mom, Kelso,” Eric said.  
  
“Well, she's not here now, is—”  
  
Rocks clattered behind them, and both Kelso and Eric twitched. Two pairs of hands grabbed onto the stony ledge. Then Jackie and Donna clambered onto the plateau. They were both sweaty and breathing heavily.   
  
“Oh, you made it,” Donna said.  
  
“Yeah,” Eric said. “We've been here quite a while.”   
  
Donna clapped rock dust off her hands. “Really?”  
  
“Say, about an hour?” Eric said. Kelso nodded, even though it had only been a few minutes.  
  
“I didn't know it was a race,” Donna said.  
  
“Oh, everything's a race with these two idiots.” Jackie straightened her blouse, and Kelso squinched his face. With her short hair, no makeup, and dirt on her cheeks, she wasn't doing it for him. Oh, yeah, and that hatred-thing, too.   
  
Eric nodded at the ledge. “I didn't know that was a path.”  
  
Donna rolled her eyes but sat down beside him. Jackie sat down beside her, and the five of them took a much-needed rest.

***

They sky had grown darker and the air windy and cold. A storm was rolling in, probably thanks to Kelso's bad luck, but Donna refused to yell at him for it. Jackie had that base covered. Donna's legs were beat, and she sat down on a mound of rocks. They'd come to the mouth of a cave.   
  
“I think you're sitting on somebody,” Eric said.  
  
Donna jumped to her feet. “Yuck!”   
  
A sword was stuck in the middle of the rock mound. A tattered flag waved above it, and a wooden version of a headstone rested against the flag's pole.  
  
“Here lies Ivan the Optimist,” Eric read.   
  
Similar graves surrounded the cave's opening.   
  
“Do you think these guys found the dragon,” Donna said, “or maybe the dragon found them?”   
  
Kelso raised his hand. “I vote for 'found them'.”   
  
“All these disgusting graves look really old,” Jackie said. She was standing with her arms crossed. “I don't think there are any more stupid dragons around.”   
  
Donna pulled herself onto a precipice. It overlooked the valley they'd spent all day journeying from. “This is insane,” she said. “We must have climbed a thousand feet.”  
  
“We should think about staying here tonight.” Eric's voice echoed from inside the cave.   
  
“In a graveyard?” Jackie said. “I don't think so.”   
  
Kelso's eyes widened as if he were scared. “I'm with Jackie. I may be as cool as Shaggy, but Fez here is no Scooby—not anymore. His mind's turning to,” he whispered the next part, “dog food.”   
  
Fez perked up his head and panted with his tongue lolling out.   
  
“No,” Kelso said to him, “I don't have any, so quit asking.”   
  
Eric went deeper into the cave. Donna expected at any moment to hear him say, “G-g-g-g-ghost!” and see him run out with a bat flapping behind him. But he didn't. He was acting so brave, and she had trouble believing it.  
  
“You guys coming?” he shouted from the cave. The sky was almost black now, but that could have been from the coming storm.  
  
“No!” Jackie and Kelso shouted together.  
  
Donna put a hand on each of their backs, “Get in there,” and shoved them inside.  
  
The cave was dark and dank, but Eric had already started a fire using Donna's lighter and twigs he'd gathered along the way. Jackie and Kelso curled up against opposite sides of Fez, and Donna sat next to Eric—but her body would likely give him more warmth than his would hers.  
  
“This was such a bad idea,” Eric said. “We never should've come here, all the way up...  _ here. _ ” He peered over at Jackie, then at Donna. “I am so sorry. This never would've happened if I'd just told you I won that money.” He shivered and pulled his coat tightly around him.  
  
Donna said nothing, but she tugged him into a sideways hug.   
  
“I'm sorry, too,” Kelso said, “'cause it's over for me. No way I'm gonna be able to deal with seven years of bad luck.”   
  
Jackie had the perfect set up to burn him but, to Donna's surprise, kept silent. Donna wished she knew how to comfort her. They were all missing Hyde.   
  
Eric gave Donna's shoulder a little squeeze, and suddenly she felt a whole lot warmer. After everything, he'd actually stuck around. He'd stayed.  
  
“You know, I'm really proud of you, Eric,” she said.  
  
“What?” he said. “Why?”   
  
“Just accept it, okay?”  
  
He smiled at her, and they held each other the rest of the night. 


	36. Mirror Birth, Mirror Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 36  
**MIRROR BIRTH, MIRROR DEATH**

Kelso awoke to the sound of panting. His body ached from sleeping on cold, hard ground, but he wanted to see who was getting it on. Eric and Donna? He peered over at them. No, they were still asleep.  
  
“Big bone,” Fez said. “Big bone.”  
  
“Yeah, buddy, I'm trying to find—” Kelso's breath caught in his throat. Fez was standing over him with a giant bone in his jaws. “Fez,” Kelso sat up and took the bone from him, “where'd you get that, boy?”  
  
“Big bone. Big bone.”  
  
Kelso looked at Jackie, who was now awake. “Yes,” he said. “Big bone. Biggest bone I've ever seen—after mine. Where'd you get it from?”  
  
Fez barked, and Eric and Donna woke, too.  
  
“Follow me!” Fez said. Kelso pushed himself to his feet and gestured for everyone to follow him.  
  
Fez led them out of the cave and into daylight. They went along a gravelly path with battered shields and rusty swords strewn beside it. The path sloped down and led to another cave, only this one had a giant dragon skull jutting from the opening.   
  
Fez ran toward it and barked.  
  
“Well,” Eric said, “we've found the dragon.”  
  
“He's not breathing any fire,” Donna said.  
  
They all went to the dragon's mouth. Its sharp teeth were larger than Jackie. Fez sniffed at a human skull by the entrance then bolted inside the cave. Kelso shrugged and followed him. So did everyone else—even Jackie, without a complaint. Poor kid. Hyde's absence was really messing her up. She must have really missed his burns. Kelso would have to pick up the slack to make her feel better. Maybe it would make her stop hating him, too.  
  
They passed into the dragon's ribcage. Swords and human skeletons littered the ground. This dragon had eaten a lot of good meals before it croaked. They reached the tail, but it wasn't a dead end. A wooden archway led into a tunnel. Lit torches lined the cave walls here, and words were painted onto the archway:

9 th Kingdom  
Royal Dwarf Mines

“Must be where they make the mirrors,” Eric said.  
  
Donna pulled a torch off the wall, and they journeyed into the mine. The mine shaft didn't go very far. A row of holes were cut into the rock below. Metal slides plunged into those holes and into the dark.   
  
“Whoa,” Kelso said. “You can't even see the bottom.” He stepped back. “I can't go down there. With my luck, I'll land in a pool of piranhas.”  
  
“I think it's the only way,” Donna said. She handed Eric the torch.  
  
“Well, I don't think so.” Kelso said.  
  
Donna ignored him. Burlap sacks were piled between each slide. She took one, put it on a slide, and sat on it.   
  
“Just think of it as a Fun Land ride, Kelso,” she said.  
  
“Fun Land rides don't try to kill you with piranhas!”   
  
Donna smiled and shook her head. “Look, if Dwarves can do it, it must be safe.” She patted her legs and called for Fez, who climbed into her lap.  
  
“How do you know,” Kelso said. “That might not even be a slide. Maybe it's a dragon-feeding tube!”  
  
“Donna, wait!” Jackie ran to the slide and sat down behind her. “If there is anything bad down there, you'll be like my early-warning system.” She wrapped her arms around Donna's waist.  
  
“Gee, thanks,” Donna said. She held onto Fez, and the three of them slid down into the dark.  
  
Jackie screamed a fading scream.  
  
“Donna!” Eric shouted into the hole. Nothing. He thrust the torch into Kelso's hand and picked up a burlap sack. “Donna, I'm coming!”   
  
Kelso laughed. “I bet she's used to hearing that.”  
  
“Shut up!” Eric said. He sat on the slide then vanished into the dark hole.  
  
Kelso was alone.  
  
“Fine.” He left the torch by the cave wall and grabbed a burlap sack. Then he sat on the slide. “But if I get killed, I'm blaming all of you!”  
  
The sound of galloping hooves echoed toward him the moment he pushed off. He zipped down the slide, and he might have said _Whee!_ because it really was like a Fun Land ride. But he also he said _OW!_ because his skull slammed into a metal sign.   
  
He fell backward onto the slide and clutched his forehead.  
  
“See?” Donna said. “You made it.”  
  
He had. He'd reached the bottom and seriously needed some aspirin.  
  
Eric was smirking. “Now I know why my dad calls you 'Kettlehead'—'cause your head sounds like a kettle when it hits something.”  
  
“Shut up, Eric.” Kelso stood up and kept a hand on his head. “I wish I was wearing the stupid helmet.”  
  
“We all wish that,” Donna said.

***

A tunnel brought them away from the slides and opened into an immense cavern lit by torches. The ceiling was partly made from another dragon skull, and Eric was glad the dragons were long-dead. The teeth alone didn't look friendly. Dozens, if not hundreds, of Dwarves were working below. They chiseled into the cave walls, carted off huge chunks of rock. They ran back and forth on wooden ramps, pulled winches. Eric felt a bit intimidated by it all and started to whistle the song “Whistle While You Work”. Kelso joined in, and Donna hit them both.   
  
“Attention!” a deep voice echoed through the cavern. “Attention!”  
  
All the Dwarves stopped what they were doing and ran toward a giant vat full of smoking liquid.  
  
“Comrades, this is a great day.” A Dwarf climbed onto a wooden platform beside the vat. That deep, loud voice was coming from his little body. “The time has come to behold the birth of the mirror!”  
  
Two Dwarves pulled on a rope, and something rose slowly out of the vat.  
  
“No one has made a Truth mirror for over five-hundred years!” the announcer Dwarf said.   
  
A giant oval coated in viscous liquid dangled over the vat. A moment later, the coating burst off in flash of blinding light and revealed a gleaming, silver mirror.   
  
“Behold,” the Dwarf announcer said, “Prince Fez's coronation gift.”  
  
The Dwarves all cheered. Their jubilant clapping and hollering reverberated against the cavern walls.   
  
“See that, Fez?” Eric said. He pointed to the newly-made mirror. “That's for you.”  
  
“Ow!”   
  
Eric turned around. Kelso was doubled over and grasping his head. A dragon's tooth lay at his feet. It must have broken off the ceiling and fallen on him.  
  
“Ow! Ow!”   
  
“Kelso, shut up!” Donna whispered, but it was too late.  
  
The Dwarves were glaring at them all.   
  
Eric waved. “Heigh-ho?”  
  
The Dwarves ran at them, and Kelso and Fez backed up. Eric stepped in front of Donna, and Jackie hid behind her, but it made no difference. The Dwarves had them surrounded.   
  
“Trespassers! Trespassers!”   
  
The Dwarves shoved them down a wooden ramp and across the chamber. They were brought to a room decorated with tapestries and what looked like Dragon fangs. A Dwarf was sitting at a desk with the words “DWARF UNION LEADER” stamped on it in gold leaf. He had to be the Dwarves' leader.   
  
“Down,” several of the Dwarves said. They pressed Eric and his friends to their knees.   
  
“Do you realize the penalty for entering our secret mirror mines, comrades?” the Dwarves' leader said.  
  
“Is it having to stay here?” Jackie said. Eric peered over at her. She'd been so quiet he'd almost forgotten she was there.  
  
“It is death. This is our mountain.”  
  
“You know what?” Eric said. “You can have it. We're just trying to get back to the Fourth Kingdom.”   
  
“Yeah. We didn't even know we were trespassing,” Donna said.  
  
The Dwarf was standing now. “Ignorance is no excuse.”  
  
“But I need it,” Kelso said. “It's the only one I have!”  
  
“You have illegally entered the underground Ninth Kingdom,” the Dwarf said, “and anyone who tries to steal our secrets will die.”  
  
“Secrets?” Eric laughed nervously. “You can keep your secrets. We actually need your help. Y'see, there was a magic mirror recently—well, it had a little accident.”  
  
“You?” the Dwarf said. “It was you?”  
  
Eric looked at Kelso, who shook his head vehemently.  
  
“Do you realize what you have done? You have destroyed one of the great Traveling mirrors,” the Dwarf said.   
  
“We weren't even there!” Kelso tried to stand, but two Dwarves pushed him back down.  
  
“Wait, wait,” Jackie said. “Did you just say _one_ of the Traveling mirrors?”  
  
“As in, 'there are others'?” Eric said.  
  
The Dwarves' leader leaned forward on the desk. “Do you wish to smash the other two as well?”   
  
“No! No, no—we need them,” Eric said. “Where can we find them?”   
  
“You will find only death here,” the Dwarf said. “Take them to the old shaft and throw them in.”  
  
Dozens of small hands latched onto Eric's coat. Donna, Jackie, and Kelso were experiencing the same, and they all tried to smack the Dwarves off them. It was useless. For each pair of hands they freed themselves from, another took its place. The Dwarves grumbled and pushed them towards the cavern's center.  
  
“Wait! Look!” a Dwarf shouted.  
  
The Dwarves suddenly became silent and let them go. The newly-made Truth mirror was drying in a rack, and Fez was standing before it.   
  
“Look at the Truth mirror,” another Dwarf said. “Look!”  
  
Reflected in the glass was Fez's image—his human image standing on hands and knees. His reflection was wearing a white princely uniform with gold epaulets and tassels.  
  
Eric's throat tightened. He'd gotten so used to seeing Fez as a dog that he'd forgotten how much he missed him as a person, as his friend.   
  
“It's Prince Fez,” the Dwarf said. “Grandson of the greatest woman who ever lived.”  
  
“That's right!” Kelso said. “That's the guy! And I'm his right-hand man. His translator—and shut up, Eric!”  
  
Eric was laughing. Kelso's use of the term “right-hand man” deserved it. With Hyde not here, he had to laugh for both of them.  
  
“What magic is this?” one of the Dwarves said. “Who are you strange travelers?”   
  
“We're on a secret mission to return Prince Fez to his human body,” Kelso said in his cop voice. “I'm a very important person.”  
  
Fez's tongue was hanging out. Though it looked cute on the dog, it looked plain weird on Fez's reflected human face.  
  
“Long have the stories been told of this day when a proud prince would stand before us on four legs!” said another Dwarf.   
  
Eric patted Fez's furry head. “Yeah, well, this is the day.”  
  
The Dwarves cheered at that.   
  
“So will you help us?” Donna said.  
  
A gray-haired Dwarf stepped forward. He wasn't wearing a mining uniform but a magenta suit. “I am the Librarian of this Kingdom,” he said. “Come with me.”  
  
He led them to the library, and mirrors seemed to be everywhere. They leaned against stands, hung on the walls. All had guilded frames, and Jackie was checking out her reflection in as many as she could. At least her vanity was still intact.   
  
“Dwarves have mined these caves for thousands of years,” the Librarian said. “In the very early days, we suffered terrible losses because the caves were overrun with dragons.” He brought them past a long row of mirrors lined up like dominoes. “The caves contain quicksilver, which—I'm sure you know—male dragons are addicted to.”  
  
He stopped at a table covered with thick books. Then he picked up a bottle of silver liquid before Kelso had a chance to touch it.  
  
“This is extremely quicksilver,” the Librarian said. “Ordinary quicksilver is much too slow for magic mirrors.” He took them to another part of the library lined with bookshelves. “Most attempts to make a magic mirror fail completely. They just reflect. But sometimes, with the help of great Dwarf exper—”  
  
“Ow!”   
  
Eric glanced behind him. Kelso was standing by a mirror, and his thumb was bleeding. He pulled a long splinter from his skin.   
  
Jackie smacked Kelso's arm. “Stop touching things, Michael.”   
  
“You're not suffering from bad luck are you?” the Librarian said.  
  
“We're looking for a Traveling mirror,” Donna said quickly, “to replace the one that was broken.”  
  
“Yeah, which we had nothing to do with,” Kelso added.  
  
The Librarian took a book off a shelf. “Traveling mirrors...” He scanned the book's index under “T”. “I doubt if our records go that far back—yes. As I thought.” He shut the book. “There's one other slender chance. Let's see if we can raise Gustav.”  
  
“'Gustav'?” Eric mouthed silently at Donna.  
  
The Librarian brought them back along the domino-line of mirrors. They ended up in the middle of the library again, where he whipped a dusty drape off a large mirror.  
  
“Gustav? You have a visitor,” the Librarian said. He turned to Eric. “You'll have to speak up. He's rather deaf.”  
  
“Gustav, we have to ask you a question!” Eric said.  
  
Light rippled in the mirror's dusty glass. ”Eh?” the mirror said.  
  
Eric cleared his throat, and Jackie pushed in front of him. “A question!” she shouted. “About Traveling mirrors!”  
  
“An answer only will I chime when questions put are asked in rhyme,” the mirror said.  
  
“All early mirrors talk in verse,” the Librarian said.   
  
Of course they did. Eric rubbed his hands together and tried to think of a rhyme. Donna beat him to it.  
  
“Are there any other Traveling mirrors we can use, sir, to get us back to the Vista Cruiser?”  
  
“Three fine mirrors there were made,” the mirror said, “to make them such a price was paid.”   
  
“Where are the other two?” Kelso said.  
  
The light in the mirror rippled again. “Eh?”  
  
“Our mirror's smashed,” Jackie said and shoved Kelso aside. “What can we do? Where the fuck are the other two?”  
  
 _Mirror one shattered below,  
Dropped by an oaf called Michael Kelso.  
  
_Kelso ducked behind Donna.  
  
 _Mirror two is on a bed  
With barnacles upon its head.  
  
_“A bed,” Eric said, “with barnacles?”  
  
“The seabed,” Donna said.  
  
“Yes,” the Librarian said. “One fell into the Great Northern Sea. I think you can safely discount that one.”   
  
_What you seek has not been seen  
Since it was stolen by the Queen.  
  
_“The Queen?” Eric sighed. “Well, that's just ducky.”  
  
“No, Fez. I don't have any!” Kelso said.   
  
Fez had jumped on his hind legs and put his front paws on Kelso's pant legs.  
  
“Sorry.” Kelso gently pushed Fez off him. “He wants a dog biscuit.”   
  
“You're the dustiest mirror I have ever seen,” Donna said. “Where the hell can we find the Queen?”   
  
_Near she is but not alone,  
In a place that's not her home,  
In a castle out of sight,  
Where once the Queen was called Snow White.  
  
_“That's Fez's castle!” Kelso said.   
  
He whirled around and knocked over a torchère, and Eric was too far away to stop it from falling. The torchère crashed into a mirror—the first in that row lined up like dominoes. Glass broke in clouds of silver dust. Kelso stood with his mouth agape as mirror-after-mirror smashed into each other.   
  
“Murderers!” the Librarian shouted. “You've murdered my mirrors.”   
  
Kelso tried to apologize, but the Librarian had backed into some Dwarves who were restoring the frames of unbroken mirrors.   
  
“Mirror-murderers! Kill them. Kill them!”   
  
Eric shoved Kelso forward, and they all ran out of the library before the Dwarves could catch them.   
  
“Quick! Sound the alarm,” a Dwarf said behind them.   
  
A sound like a train whistle blew throughout the mine.   
  
Eric led everyone into another tunnel, and they almost plunged head-first down one of those metal slides. The Dwarves' shouts were echoing louder and louder.   
  
Eric tossed a burlap sack onto the slide. “Donna, Jackie—go.”   
  
Donna and Jackie climbed onto the slide and disappeared into the dark.   
  
Eric went next with Fez on his lap. The ride was longer and steeper than the last one, but they made it to the bottom without incident.  
  
“Eric, out of the way!”  
  
Kelso flew off the slide and crash-landed onto his right arm. Eric had stepped back just in time.  
  
“You okay?” Eric said.  
  
“No!” Kelso stood up and rubbed his wrist.  
  
“You are such a doofus,” Jackie said.   
  
Donna pulled a torch off the wall and nodded. “Yeah. Try to be more careful.”  
  
“It's not my fault,” Kelso said. “It's my bad luck.” He stomped forward. “How much worse ca—ahhh!”   
  
The ground beneath his feet had given way. He plummeted through the floor, and his scream was swallowed by a racket of rumbling rock.   
  
“Kelso!” Eric shouted. He crouched by the hole and looked into it. Kelso had landed at least ten feet below onto a pile of rubble. He was lying awkwardly on his back and didn't move.  
  
“Kelso!” Eric shouted again and still nothing. He hoped to God Kelso's bad luck hadn't finally ended.


	37. To See and Be Seen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

 CHAPTER 37  
 **TO SEE AND BE SEEN**

Michael was conscious, and Jackie finally breathed. She'd made her way down to him with the others through a winding tunnel. If Kissing Town had been heaven, this dank, dark mine was hell. Steven would have loved it.  
  
“You all right?” Eric said.   
  
Michael groaned. “You know what happens when I fall off the Water Tower every year? This is a lot worse. Something cracked. I can't move.”  
  
“Let us help you,” Donna said. She put a hand under Michael's neck, and he cried out in pain.  
  
“No! I think... I think my back's broken.”  
  
“Okay, um...” Eric's voice was low, “we're gonna have to find another way out of here 'cause we can't go back the way we came, so...”  
  
Tears welled in Michael's eyes. “I don't wanna die in here, man.”  
  
“You are not going to die!” Jackie said.   
  
“Why? So you can keep on hating me?”   
  
“I don't hate you, Michael.” She caressed his cheek and brushed hair out of his eyes. “And none of us are going to die, so shut up!” She grabbed the torch Donna was holding. “Eric and I are going to go on and find a way out while Donna stays here to make sure tunnel bugs don't eat you.”  
  
“We are?” Eric said.  
  
“I am?” Donna said.  
  
Michael swallowed. “Tunnel bugs?”   
  
“We'll come back and get you,” Jackie said. “Maybe Fez can smell out fresh air, and—”  
  
“You won't find your way back. There are too many tunnels,” Michael said.   
  
“No, Michael, unlike you,  _ I  _ don't get lost in a sandbox. Eric and I will find a way out and come back to get you and Donna, okay? I promise.”   
  
Michael didn't say anything, but Eric did. “Why don't you stay with Kelso while Donna and I—OW!”  
  
Jackie had pinched his arm. “I'd rather go with Donna, but Michael's helpless. He needs someone big and strong to protect him. Look,” she pulled a stale loaf of bread from her knapsack, “I'm going to leave a trail of breadcrumbs so we can get back here.”   
  
“Are you okay with this, Donna?” Eric said.  
  
“Not really, but what choice do we have?” Donna kissed Eric lightly on the lips. “Go.”   
  
Jackie grabbed Eric's wrist and pulled him into a dark tunnel. Fez padded beside her quietly, and she was holding the torch high above her head, but the end of one tunnel bled into the opening of the next. The breadcrumbs she sprinkled onto the ground probably wouldn't help much.   
  
They walked in silence for a long while. But soon her arm grew tired from holding the torch, and her mind became edgy from the quiet. She passed the torch to Eric and said, “You know, Donna's really lucky.”  
  
“Why? Because she gets to stay with Kelso and have no clue when or if we'll get back?”  
  
“No.” Jackie rolled her eyes and sighed. Eric was a great guy to confide in—like a girl—but he could also be really irritating. “She's lucky because she's never had to doubt how much you love her.”  
  
“Oh. That's true,” Eric said. “Although she does have to deal with he fact that I can be quite the dumbass.”  
  
Jackie shrugged. “Even trade.”  
  
“What's going on with you?” he said. “Hyde's gone, so now you're all... nice?”   
  
“No, I've just realized how much you and I have in common. That's all.”  
  
Eric stopped walking for a moment and felt Jackie's forehead. “Well, you're not feverish,” he said. “Therefore, I can only conclude that... you've lost your freakin' mind.”  
  
She batted him away. “Whatever. Look, all you've ever wanted to know was that Donna loved you as much as you loved her.”  
  
“And you want to know the same thing from Hyde...” Eric spoke as if he'd just made a huge discovery. “I didn't know you still—wait. Are you two back together or something?”   
  
Jackie shrugged again. “I love Steven with all my heart, but he's never really given me the same security,” she took a breath, “and when he finally tried to, I doubted it, which hurt him unintentionally,” she took another breath, “and he walked away, and then I hurt him on purpose, and now I don't know if he—“  
  
“Okay, backup, backup,” Eric said. “We don't even know if Hyde's still—where Hyde is, and all you care about is whether or not he loves you? I mean, he could be...” He shook his head, clearly unable to say what Jackie hadn't been able to bring herself to think.   
  
The air was growing colder as they went deeper into the tunnels, and Jackie started to shiver. “I could live with him not loving me, Eric,” she said. “I couldn't live with him being dead. So, yeah. I'm thinking about the easier part, okay?” Her eyes began to sting, but thankfully her tears stay put. “I looked in all those mirrors, you know, in that library? To see if any of them could possibly find him—and I would've asked Gustav where Steven was if Michael's stupid bad luck hadn't ruined my chance.”  
  
“Jackie...” Eric frowned. “I'm really sorry. I thought y—where's Fez?”   
  
Jackie looked behind her, but all she saw was darkness.  
  
“Fez!” both she and Eric shouted. “Fez!”   
  
Faint barking echoed ahead of them.  
  
“Come on,” Eric said.   
  
They hurried forward, and Fez's barking became louder. Then they hit a dead end. The tunnel went no further.  
  
“He has to be behind the wall,” Eric said. He moved the torch all along the stone, but all Jackie saw was rock. She touched her fingers to the wall and quickly withdrew them. It was freezing. She was tempted to warm her hands on the torch, but in the light of it, she finally spotted a hole in the stone—big enough for a dog Fez's size to crawl through. And big enough for Eric's scrawny butt and Jackie, too.  
  
“Let's go,” Jackie said.  
  
“In there? But what if it doesn't lead anywhere except to a collapsed tunnel or a pit of lava?”   
  
“Lava? It has to be less than thirty degrees down here, you idiot. We have no other choice but this or go back.”   
  
Jackie slipped her arms into the hole then pulled the rest of her body inside. A blast of wintry air hit her in the face, which made Eric's fear of finding lava even more annoying.  
  
She tumbled out of the hole into a mound of snow. Icy stalagmites and stalactites glowed with an inner light, and they illuminated the whole chamber. She'd entered an ice cave. Her breath was white smoke in the air, and she shook with cold, but the light balanced out her discomfort. Traveling through dark tunnels was almost as bad as traveling through dark forests.   
  
Fez's back was to her, and his tail was wagging. He was standing on another snow mound a few feet away. He seemed to be staring at something.  
  
“Jackie?” Eric's voice echoed through the hole.  
  
“It's okay, Eric,” she said. “Get in here.”  
  
The torch came through first, and she grabbed it although it wasn't needed in here. Then Eric popped through the hole and into the snow.  
  
“Oh, my God,” he said and took back the Torch. “It's the Fortress of Solitude.”   
  
“What?”  
  
“Superman's headquarters. Do you think he's here, too?”   
  
Eric started to babble on about it, but Jackie shut him out. He could be  _ really _ irritating sometimes. Jackie sucked in a freezing breath. Was that how Steven felt about her __ when she'd talk about stuff he didn't care about, like everything she loved?  
  
Fez finally noticed them, barked, and walked up ahead. Jackie and Eric followed him to a circular dais built out of snow. Stairs had been molded into it.  
  
“Look,” Eric said. “There's writing around the circumference.” He wedged the torch into some hard-packed snow and read, “For seven men she gave her life. For one good man she was his wife. Beneath the ice by Snow White Falls, there lies the fairest of them all.”   
  
Jackie's heart started to beat faster, and she climbed the snow stairs with Eric. Underneath the clear surface of the dais was a coffin made of ice, or maybe it was glass. A woman lay inside. Her eyes were closed, but her cheeks and lips had color as if she were merely asleep.   
  
Jackie ran a finger down the ice. She hoped she looked as beautiful in death as this woman did.  
  
“Jackie...” A woman's voice echoed in the cave, and the body disappeared. “Hello, Jackie. Eric.”   
  
Jackie gasped and looked up. The woman was standing across the chamber. Her hair was black and shiny. Her face didn't need any makeup because of its natural glow, and... she was fat. Jackie crossed her arms. Yet another fairy tale fantasy broken. There were no princes, magic often tried to kill people, and Snow White—the fairest of them all—was fat.   
  
“You look tired,” Snow White said.  
  
“Holy shit!” Eric said. “You're... you're dead! Aren't you?”   
  
Snow White smiled. “Well, yes. I think you'd have to say so. I'm more into the Fairy Godmother, occasional appearances sort of thing now.”   
  
Eric's mouth had dropped open. He was in shock. Jackie, though, was feeling intense disappointment. How could this woman have been considered Fairest of Them All? Even skanky Sally Peep had kept herself in shape by chasing after sheep and other people's boyfriends—ex-boyfriends.  
  
“But I still have influence over things,” Snow White said and walked to the dais. “I've been protecting you in other ways, shielding your image from the mirrors of the Queen.”   
  
She raised her hands to them, and Eric took one immediately. Jackie hesitated, but once she held Snow White's hand, an incredible warmth spread from it into Jackie's skin. Her shivering stopped.  
  
Snow White led them back to the cave floor. “But soon,” she said, “you'll both have to see and be seen.”  
  
“Um, Ms. White?” Eric said. “I don't understand.”   
  
Fez barked and ran up to them. His tail was wagging. Snow White laughed and cuddled his face.   
  
“What do you think of my grandson, huh?” she said.  
  
“He's a perve—”  
  
Eric covered Jackie's mouth. “He's great. One of our best friends,” he said.  
  
“Yes. I think being a dog has been very good for him,” Snow White said.  
  
Jackie could agree with that. Fez hadn't tried to sniff her crotch or hump her leg since he'd broken out of his golden prison.   
  
Eric's finger traced circles in the air by his temple. “But he's going woof-woof.”  
  
“That is why you must now take charge.” Snow White was looking directly at both Jackie and Eric. “He needs you to save his kingdom. We all do.”  
  
“Us?” Jackie said.   
  
“Me and her?” Eric said. “I think you've got the wrong people.”  
  
“I have the right people. I've been waiting for both of you, Eric.” Snow White walked through the chamber, and Fez followed. “You see, my mother was a Queen, and every day she would sit by the window sewing, staring at the falling snow, longing to have a baby girl. And one day, she pricked her finger on a needle, and onto the snow fell three drops of blood, and she knew then that she would die giving birth to me.”   
  
Jackie felt herself smiling. She'd always loved this story. Her mother used to read fairy tales to her when she was young, really young, before her mother got distracted.  
  
“My father was sad for a very long time,” Snow White continued, “but he remarried eventually because he was lonely. And my new mother brought no possessions to the castle except for her magic mirrors. Every day she would lock her bedroom door. She would take off all her clothes, and she would look in the mirror and say, 'Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?'”   
  
“Oh, my God,” Eric turned to Jackie, “you married Snow White's father?”   
  
Jackie smacked his arm.  
  
Snow White sat down on a mound of hard-packed snow. “And the mirror would reply, 'My lady, you are the fairest of them all.' And this would satisfy her, for she knew that mirrors spoke the truth. But I was growing older, and by the time I was seven, I was as pretty as you, Jackie.”  
  
Jackie sat down on the ground in front of Snow White. A comment like that should have insulted her, but it actually made her feel quite nice.   
  
“And one day when the Queen had asked her mirror, the mirror replied, 'My lady Queen is fair to see, but Snow White is fairer far than thee.'” Snow White frowned. “And my stepmother called her Huntsman and said, 'Take this child into the forest. I am sick of the sight of her.'”   
  
A chill shuddered through Jackie's body. If her mother had done that to  _ her...  _   
  
“Can you imagine that moment, Jackie?” Snow White said. “When you realize you're so awful your own mother wants you murdered?”   
  
Jackie shook her head, but she could. Steven's mother had practically done it to him, just indirectly.   
  
“When the Huntsman raised his knife,” Snow White's voice was trembling a little, “I fell to my knees, and I begged him, 'Let me live. Please, let me live.' And he put his knife away.   
  
“I was so terrified, I ran straight into the darkness. I ran until I was exhausted, and then, right in front of me, was a little cottage.”  
  
“Hey, that's the cottage we found!” Eric said. Jackie had forgotten he was even there. He was sitting beside her with Fez curled up in his lap.   
  
“Yes, of course,” Snow White said.   
  
Jackie and Eric listened together as Snow White described how the Dwarves had found her and let her stay with them in exchange for her doing the housework.  
  
“When I told them about my stepmother, they became very paranoid about her,” Snow White said. “They warned me never to go into town, never to open the door to strangers. But her mirrors found me eventually.  
  
“She dressed as an old peddler and climbed over the seven hills to my house. Twice she came. Once with a corset to crush my ribs, and then with a poisoned comb to drug me.”  
  
Jackie's jaw clenched. Being beautiful really was a double-edged sword.   
  
“But the last time she came, she brought the most beautiful basket of apples that I ever saw. And this time she stayed to watch me die. And to be sure, she held me in her arms until I died in front of her, choking on a piece of poison apple.”   
  
“That bitch!” Jackie and Eric said together.  
  
“And I often think,” Snow White's voice grew whisper-quiet, “'Why did I let her in? Didn't I know she was bad?'”  
  
“Yeah,” Eric said, “didn't you?”  
  
Snow White nodded. “I did. Of course I did. But I also knew that I couldn't keep the door closed all my life, just because it was dangerous, just because there was a chance I might get hurt.”   
  
Jackie knew that last part was directed at her. Tears had long-since filled her eyes, but she blinked them away and climbed onto the snow next to Snow White.  
  
“What does any of this have to do with me? Jackie said.  
  
Snow White rubbed Jackie's arm tenderly. “Everything. You're not present, Jackie. How did you lose your present?”   
  
She pulled Jackie to her gently, and Jackie lay her head on Snow White's shoulder. The only people who ever held her like this were Donna and Steven—and Mr. Forman when she forced him to.   
  
“You're still lost in the forest,” Snow White said, “but lonely lost girls like us can rescue themselves. You are standing on the edge of happiness.”  
  
“No, I'm not,” Jackie said. Her face felt hot. She didn't want to cry anymore, especially in front of Eric, but she couldn't help it. “I keep trying, but I never seem to get it right.”  
  
“You will one day be like me,” Snow White said. “You will bring joy to others by first allowing yourself to have joy. Now stand up.”  
  
Jackie did, and Eric immediately took her place next to Snow White.  
  
“What about me, Ms. White?” he said. “What am I standing on the edge of? 'Cause I got nothing.”   
  
“Greatness, Eric,” Snow White said. “You are standing on the edge of greatness.”  
  
“I am?”   
  
“He is?” Jackie said.  
  
“You are far stronger, Eric, far braver, far more deserving than you've ever allowed yourself to realize. You are not as lost as you think you are. Stand up.”   
  
Eric did, and he blinked his eyes as if to keep from crying.  
  
Snow White plucked an intricately-wrought hand mirror from the snow and handed it to Eric. “This mirror will show you what you do and do not want to see.”  
  
Jackie peered over Eric's shoulder at her own reflection. Even without makeup or long hair, she was still gorgeous—but not as gorgeous as Snow White. Not yet. Snow White was more beautiful than any woman Jackie had ever known.   
  
“Poison is the way the Queen will strike,” Snow White said, “and the way she must be defeated. You must find the poisoned comb she tried to kill me with.”  
  
“Okay,” Eric said, “but what can we do all by ourselves?”  
  
“Do not cling to what you know. Do not think. Become.” Snow White started to climb the stairs of the dais.   
  
“Damn, our light's going out.” Eric pulled the dying torch from the snow.  
  
“Let your light go out,” Snow White said. “Embrace the darkness.”  
  
“But we won't find our way out in the dark!” Jackie said. She began to shake again. They had to get back to Michael and Donna.   
  
“You may both ask for one wish each, and I will try to grant them.” Snow White smiled playfully. “But be sure to ask for the right things.”  
  
Jackie looked down. She wanted to wish for Steven to find them.  
  
“I wish,” Eric said first, “Kelso's bad luck was over.”  
  
“And you?” Snow White said to Jackie.  
  
“I wish... I wish Michael's back wasn't broken anymore.”  
  
“It's done.” Snow White climbed another step on the dais, but then she stiffened. “Your friends are in great danger. You must go to them.”  
  
“Okay,” Jackie said, “but how do we f—”  
  
“No. Go to them now.” Snow White climbed down the stairs. “Quick. Go to them now. Immediately.” She pushed Jackie and Eric toward the hole.  
  
Jackie, Eric, and Fez crawled back into the tunnels and ran.

***

Kelso's body hurt worse than even that time his arm almost got ripped off by a car door. Every time he squirmed on his bed of rubble, pain shot up his spine all the way to his skull. He couldn't even scream because that counted as moving, and it brought more hurt. This burn wasn't funny anymore.  
  
Donna had tried to keep up a Jackie-level of babble, which Kelso appreciated, but she ran out of things to say a while ago. So she mainly stuck to, “How are you doing, Kelso?” and “I'm right here, Kelso,” but it had been some time since her last check-in.  
  
“Donna?” Kelso said. He tried to look to the left, and a railroad spike of pain plunged into the back of his skull. It blurred his vision. Orange light was dancing in front of him, coming closer. It had to be a torch.  
  
“Jackie, Eric? Finally!” Kelso said. “I was starting to think we'd never get out of here.”  
  
“That was the right thing to do.” Eric's voice sounded deeper and cold and not like Eric's voice at all.   
  
Kelso squinted and saw two blurry faces in front of him. One was clearly Donna's. The other face belonged to...  
  
“Oh, no!” Kelso whispered.   
  
It belonged to the Huntsman. Kelso's bad luck was apparently going to screw him one final time—and Donna, too.   
  
“I move slowly,” the Huntsman said, “but I always get what I want.”  
  
Kelso's vision finally cleared. The Huntsman was holding Donna tightly with one arm, and he brought the torch's flame near her face. Kelso twitched at the sight of it, but he didn't feel any pain. His back was so badly wrecked that it had finally gone numb.   
  
“Where's the dog?” the Huntsman said. Donna barely shook her head, but Kelso understood. She wanted him to say nothing. “Where's the girl?”  
  
Did he mean Jackie?  
  
“Go fuck yourself,” Kelso said.   
  
The Huntsman threw away the torch and pulled a long knife from his boot. He shoved the back of the blade against Kelso's throat.  
  
“Leave him alone!” Donna shouted. She tried to pry the Huntsman's arm off her, but his grip was too strong. She had no traction.  
  
“I'm not going to ask you again,” the Huntsman said. He flipped the knife so that the blade now pressed into Kelso's skin.  
  
“Just do it. Get it over with,” Kelso said. “The rest of my life's gonna suck anyway.”  
  
“You will tell me everything long before you die.”  
  
The Huntsman took the knife from Kelso's neck and put it against Donna's. The blade started to pierce her skin. Kelso thought of a convincing lie, opened his mouth to say it and then—  
  
Something slammed into the Huntsman's head from behind. He toppled onto Kelso's legs, knife still in hand, but he'd let go of Donna. He was out cold.  
  
Eric was holding his torch like a baseball bat—no, like a lightsaber. He'd just kicked the Huntsman's ass. Jackie and Fez were standing beside him, and the three of them looked happy.  
  
“M'lady?” Eric said. He reached his hand to Donna and helped her stand.  
  
“Oh, my God—Eric!” She wrapped her arms around him.  
  
Jackie bent over Kelso and tapped his chest. “Get up,” she said.  
  
“I can't get up,  _ d'uh! _ My back's broken.”   
  
Jackie smiled at him. “No, it's not.”  
  
“What're you tal—” Kelso jerked his head up. It didn't hurt. He wiggled his fingers, flipped off the unconscious Huntsman. “Hey, I think I'm cured!” He sat up. “How the hell did that happen?”  
  
Jackie pulled him to his feet. “We've found the greatest thing ever.”  
  
“What?” Donna said. “You've found the way out?”  
  
“Better,” Eric said.   
  
“Better? What's better than the way out?” Kelso said.  
  
“Follow us.” Eric exchanged his dying, banged-up torch for the Huntsman's. Then he, Jackie, and a too-silent Fez brought Kelso and Donna through the tunnels... until they came to a dead end.   
  
“Uh-huh.” Kelso stared at the wall. “This is better than the way out.”   
  
Donna clutched Kelso's head, angled it down, and he saw that a hole was cut into the rock.  
  
“I can't go in there,” he said.   
  
“Sure you can. All you need is a kick in the ass,” Eric said, “which I'll be more than happy to provide.”  
  
“Oh. Cool.”  
  
Jackie shimmied into the hole first, and Eric passed the torch in after her. Kelso went next. He squeezed his head in, then his shoulders. It was a tight fit, all right.  
  
“So this is what it's like being born,” he said.   
  
He tried to push himself the rest of the way through, but he was stuck. Then he felt a hard pressure on his butt, like someone's foot, and— _ pop! _ His body shot out of the hole into some snow.  
  
“Michael, Michael—look!” Jackie said.  
  
They were in an icy cavern, empty except for some stalactites and stalagmites.  
  
“What?” Kelso said.  
  
“You have to see this, Donna.” Eric's voice echoed in the cavern. “It's like Superman's Fortress of Solitude in he—where did everything go? The light, the coffin—?”  
  
“No, she was here,” Jackie said. “Wait, it was...” She pointed ahead of her. Fez padded over to the spot and sniffed.  
  
“What?” Kelso said again. “Did you find the way out?”   
  
Jackie looked at Eric. “Yes,” she said, then blew out the torch.   
  
Kelso waved a hand in front of his face, but he couldn't see it. Everything had gone dark.   
  
“Jackie,” he said, “why the hell did you—”  
  
“ _ Shh! _ ” Someone—he hoped it was Jackie—grabbed his hand. “Listen.”  
  
Kelso heard nothing but the sound of his own breathing.   
  
“Oh, my God,” Donna said, “it's—”   
  
“Shut up, Donna!” Kelso said. ”I'm trying to hear.” But he still heard nothing. “Jackie, what am I supposed to be listening to?”   
  
“ _ Shhhhh _ ,” Eric said. He sounded like rushing water.  
  
“I know, but I can't hear anything!” Kelso said.   
  
_ Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh.  
  
_ “Would everyone quit shushing me? I can't—”   
  
Someone—still Jackie, he hoped—pulled him forward. The shushing grew louder as they walked, and it was joined by a rumbling noise that sounded like a stampede of horses. He could feel the vibration of it through the cave floor. Kelso ducked down and covered his head.  
  
“Michael?” Jackie said. “Michael, what are you doing?”  
  
“Run!” he shouted. “My bad luck's about to cause a cave-in or something!””   
  
Jackie patted his shoulder. “Your bad luck's gone.”  
  
“N'uh-uh! I always hear galloping horses before something horrible happens, and now I hear a stampede!”   
  
“We all hear it,” Donna said. “That's not a stampede. That's water.”  
  
“What?” Kelso stood up, and they continued on. Liquid splashed on his cheek. The rocky walls were wet with water.   
  
They turned a corner, and sunlight streamed into the cave. It stung his eyes, but he shielded them with his hand. They'd found the exit.  
  
Kelso ran outside through the opening in the rock. “Freedom!” he shouted. “Freed—”   
  
He stopped short. He was at the bottom of a powerful waterfall, and he'd almost fallen into a raging, churning river. The force of the water buffeted him like wind.   
  
Eric clapped him on the back, his non-broken back. Jackie and Donna were hugging beside him.   
  
“We did it!” Jackie said. “We're out!”  
  
They climbed up some wet rocks to higher ground, and Eric glanced around. “I think we're back in the Fourth Kingdom,” he said and took a small mirror from his pocket.  
  
“Eric, who cares about what you look like?” Kelso said. “We're alive!”   
  
“No, it's—”  
  
Jackie snatched the mirror from Eric's fingers and gazed into it. “Mirror, mirror in my hand,” she said, “who's the fairest in the land?”   
  
“Oh, come on!” Kelso shouted.  
  
“Jackie!” Donna said.  
  
But they all, including Eric, peered over Jackie's shoulders. Her reflection in the glass was dissolving away. Another chick's image took its place.  
  
“Oh, my God,” Donna said. “That's Laurie!”   
  
“No way,” Eric said.  
  
“Yeah, dude, that's totally her!” Kelso tried to grab the mirror, but Jackie's hold on it was firm.  
  
“No way!” Eric said again.  
  
“Oh, it's her.” Kelso was smiling. His bad luck really was gone. “That's your sister! And I'm totally gonna to do it with her!” 


	38. A Scenic Route

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 3:** “Stairway to Heaven” copyright 1971 Led Zeppelin and Swan Song Inc.

 CHAPTER 38  
 **A SCENIC ROUTE**  


Eric hadn't seen his sister in almost three years, not since she went on her honeymoon without her husband—without Fez. But she was there, in the hand mirror, with a diamond crown on her head and crimson robes on her body. She was here.  
  
“Holy shit!” He couldn't stop cursing. “Holy shit!”  
  
Laurie's face filled more of the glass. He reached for the mirror, but Jackie hurled it into the waterfall.   
  
“How can she be here?” Eric bent to Fez and grasped his furry face. “How did my sister get to the Nine Kingdoms?”   
  
“Hey,” Kelso pulled Eric up, “leave Fez alone. It's not his fault.”  
  
“I know,” Eric said. Donna grabbed his hand, but he couldn't feel it right now.   
  
They all climbed the wet rocks along the falls in silence, but Eric continued to curse in his mind. He only stopped when they reached a grassy plateau. The river roared beside them, white with froth.   
  
“I thought she was in Canada,” Donna said.   
  
“We just made that up, okay?” Eric said. “Mom and Dad didn't know what else to think.”  
  
“Well, think about  _ me _ .” Jackie's lips curled into a snarl. “That mirror thinks your slut of a sister is prettier than I am.”   
  
Eric gestured to the river wildly. “Is that why you threw the mirror away?”  
  
“ _ No.  _ Since we could see, her, maybe Laurie could see us, and—”  
  
“And what?” Eric said. “What do you think she's going to do?”  
  
Kelso pointed to himself. “Me!”   
  
“No, you idiot!” Jackie said. “How do you think she got here?”  
  
They were walking in woodland now, and the river had become smooth and quiet. Fez kept pouncing on bugs in the grass...   
  
Eric froze. “Laurie's got the other Traveling mirror.” He didn't want to think about what that meant.  
  
The trees opened up into a glade. Snow White Falls was rumbling in the distance.   
  
“Which way now?” Donna said.  
  
“I'll find out,” Kelso said. “Fez—where's Fez?” Fez sprang out of the woods and ran toward him. “Hey, boy.” Kelso gestured to the path in front of him. “Is this the way to your castle?” He waited, and then his eyes narrowed. “A stick? No, hold on a second! Big things are happening here. Your stepmother is your wife!—and my ex-girlfriend, sorta. Well, the person I did it with on a regular basis. Don't you get it? She's the hot Evil Queen! The one who killed your—”  
  
“Kelso...” Donna touched his arm then glanced at Eric.  
  
“Right. Sorry, man” Kelso said. 

***

Sprawling green mountains stretched into the mist-shrouded sky, and Jackie found the scenery quite beautiful. Yet every time she passed a clod of dirt in the grass, her attention would linger there. She was walking in the valley alongside Michael and Fez, but Donna hung back with Eric.   
  
“Man, how come Fez got turned into a dog by having sex with Laurie, and I didn't?” Michael said.  
  
Jackie patted his arm. “Oh, you did, Michael. Just one without fur and a tail.”  
  
Michael tossed a stick, and Fez ran after it. “I can't believe it, Jackie. How could Laurie do that to Fez's parents? I mean, she's evil but not that evil.”  
  
“I don't know. I could see her upgrading from whore to traitorous murderer,” Jackie said.   
  
Fez bounded back to them with the stick in his mouth, but he stopped short of letting Kelso take it from him. His paws started to dig into a clump of dirt.  
  
“No, Fez. We don't have time for you to bury—come on!” Michael pulled on the stick, but Fez growled at him. “Fine, but no more fetch after this.”  
  
Tears rose in Jackie's eyes. It was the stupid dirt. “Steven was right. Happily Ever After doesn't exist.”  
  
“Aw, Jackie, that's not tr—”  
  
A cloud of pink dust shot across Michael's face and collided into a tree. The next cloud hit him in the nose.   
  
“Michael?” Jackie said, but he lurched sideways.   
  
She didn't watch his body drop, only heard the thump when it hit the ground. Jackie had started to run.  
  
“Victory for the Troll Nation!”  
  
The three Trolls leapt up from a thick cover of bushes. They had slingshots. They were shooting Troll dust.  
  
Fez dashed ahead, but he was the next to be struck down. Jackie ran past his unconscious body, and another  _ thump  _ sounded behind her. She didn't look back.   
  
“Donna!” Eric shouted. Then he was quiet.   
  
The Trolls chased Jackie through the woods. Pink clouds flew by her face, and then one burst against her back. Another hit her neck. The sweet scent of it filled her nostrils, made her light-headed, and she collapsed onto the grass.   
  
The vibration of the Trolls' heavy footsteps rumbled beneath her. “Kill our dad, would you?” one of the Trolls shouted.  
  
_ Where had they gotten that idea?  _ Jackie wanted to shout, but all she could do was whimper. Sharp blows struck her back and shoulders. The Trolls were punching her, kicking her. But the pain of it soon faded. She was almost unconscious.  
  
“No,” a cold, soft voice said above her. “You'll get your chance after the Queen is finished with them.”  
  
They were the last words she heard. They were the Huntsman's.

***

Eric awoke to the Bee Gees' “Saturday Night Fever” and reached toward his clock radio. Only he couldn't move his arm. It was chained to Donna's. And there wasn't any clock radio either because he wasn't safe at home in his bed. He was in a bumpy wagon with his still-sleeping friends. They were all chained up together while three drunken Trolls drove the horses and butchered what was already a terrible song to begin with.   
  
A separate chain was around Fez. The Huntsman was holding the end of it in his hands, and his head lolled around with the jerky movements of the wagon. His eyes were closed.  
  
Eric tapped Donna's shoulder. “Wake up. The Huntsman's asleep.”  
  
Her eyes fluttered open, but she seemed to grasp their situation quickly. She woke Kelso with a hand over his mouth. Eric did the same to Jackie, and she bit him.   
  
He swallowed the pain. “No one can see us,” he said.  
  
“We've got handcuffs on,” Donna said, “and our feet are tied. How are we—?”  
  
“Just jump off the back,” Jackie said.  
  
Eric nodded. “No one's gonna see us. Let's go.”  
  
“No wait,” Kelso said. “What about Fez?” Then he frowned. “No, Fez, I won't.”  
  
Donna patted Kelso's arm. “What did he say?”  
  
“He told me to go.” Kelso shut his eyes and shook his head. “I can't leave him, not with these dicks. I can't.”  
  
“Look, Michael, don't think about it,” Jackie said. “Just do it. Ready? One, two—”  
  
Eric and Jackie shoved Donna and Kelso off the side of the wagon. They rolled with them onto the ground, and the impact of the landing knocked the air from Eric's body. Kelso and Donna were groaning beside him. Jackie merely cursed.   
  
Moments later, the four of them sat up. They watched as the wagon trundled into the distance—with Fez.   
  
“Okay, Eric,” Donna said, “is there second part to your escape plan?”

***

Jackie was happy to have the ropes off her feet. Eric had untied them without difficulty, but she wished he knew how to bite through chains with his teeth. They were all still shackled together, and it made for difficult walking. Michael and Donna kept jerking her with their steps.   
  
They were still in the woods, but an entirely different wood than before. The trees weren't the same ones as those by Snow White Falls. No mountains rolled along the horizon.   
  
The sun was low in the sky, which meant night would fall soon. Jackie brushed Steven's ring across her lips. He had to be out there somewhere looking for them,  _ for her. _ He had to be.  
  
“Here's what I don't get,” Donna said. “What's the point of escaping if we're just going to walk right into the castle?”   
  
“Look.” Kelso gestured to a wooden sign post.  
  
One arrow read: PRINCE FEZ'S CASTLE – 39 MILES, and it pointed in the direction they were already going. That way was open to the sky, and it was friendly-looking.   
  
The other arrow read: CASTLE – 13 MILES and pointed to a shadowy area dense with trees and thick with mist.  
  
“Great! It's a shortcut.” Kelso started pulling them all to the darkly lit path.  
  
Eric dug in his feet. “Wait. Why do you think one route is thirty-nine miles and the other is thirteen miles?”  
  
“Maybe there's a scenic route,” Kelso said and yanked on the chain.  
  
“I'm with Kelso,” Donna said. “I'm not walking another thousand miles through a forest. Thirteen miles sounds good to me.”   
  
Jackie didn't voice her own objections, mainly because she didn't like either option, but the choice seemed to have been made. She and Eric were being dragged to the edge of the shadow-covered shortcut.  
  
“No,” Eric said. “The other way's gotta be longer because it's safer. This is...” he waved ahead of them, “this can't be good.”   
  
They walked into the shadows, into the misty air. The ground became soggy beneath their feet, and it sounded like Eric had stepped in something even squishier.  
  
“Y'see? Y'see?” he said. “You think maybe the other path is going around something?”  
  
“Maybe it's just not suitable for carts,” Donna said.  
  
“Donna, how can you be okay with this?” Eric pointed to his ick-covered shoe. “This place is a bog.”   
  
Donna smiled. “Kermit the Frog lived in a bog.”  
  
As they continued on, Jackie regretted not fighting to go the other way. The trees looked like gnarled, grasping hands. The air smelled rotten, like death. Her boots were making unpleasant sucking sounds on the moist ground, and she missed Steven more than ever. Even he wouldn't have liked it here.  
  
The shadows gave way to an eerie green light. Marshy water surrounded them in ponds. They were definitely in a swamp.   
  
“Is it just me,” Kelso said, “or can you hear 'Stairway to Heaven'?”   
  
“It's just you,” Eric said.  
  
Jackie nodded, but Donna said, “No, no. I hear it. That's Robert Plant's voice. Listen.”   
  
Jackie and Eric looked at each other and shrugged.  
  
_ There's a sign on the wall, but she wants to be sure   
'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings...   
  
_ Michael was singing. His eyes seemed dazed.  
  
_ In a tree by the brook there's a songbird who sings,   
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven. _   
  
Donna had joined in, and her eyes were equally glassy.  
  
Jackie tugged on Michael's sleeve. “You know, it's not too late to turn back.”  
  
“Wait, wait. This is a great album,” Donna said. “We've come this far. Let's keep going until we've at least heard 'Misty Mountain Hop'.”  
  
“Yeah.” Michael's eyes were closed now, and he was swaying. Jackie pinched him. He didn't seem to notice. It was as if he and Donna were in the midst of circle-time.  
  
Jackie pushed Michael forward, and Eric did the same to Donna. They walked while the two dopes sang Zeppelin to themselves. Ahead, small lights were zipping through the trees. They were too fast to be fireflies.   
  
“ _ And a new day will dawn for those who stand long, and the forests will echo with laughter,” _ Donna sang. “Come on, Eric,” she said, “you've gotta be able to hear that!”   
  
The lights darted underneath Jackie and Michael's chains. Then they sped upward, leaving a sparkling trail behind.  
  
“What are those lights?” Eric said, and the lights flew by his face as if in response. They looped behind him and shot forward to a tree stump, where they flashed even brighter. Three tiny giggling girls with translucent wings were standing there when the light faded.  
  
“Who are you?” Jackie said.  
  
“Who are you?” said one of the girls. Jackie recognized the tone. It was bitchy. These Fairies were teenagers.  
  
“Everyone thinks they can handle the swamp,” another of the girls said.  
  
The third girl looked at the others with a cheerleader's deviousness. “But they all end up in the hands of the Swamp Witch.”  
  
“Oh, great,” Donna said. She seemed to have snapped out of her daze a little. “The Swamp Witch?”   
  
The second girl giggled. “There are three things you musn't do under any circumstances. Don't drink the water.”  
  
“Don't eat the magic mushrooms,” the third girl said.  
  
“And whatever you do,” the first girl wagged a tiny finger at them, “don't fall sleep.”  
  
“Okay, why don't we just keep moving?” Eric said. He turned Donna around.  
  
“Oh, look, they're all chained up!” one of the girls said. “Would you like to be separated from each another?”  
  
Jackie rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. You have no idea.”   
  
“All right then,” the first girl said.  
  
“No, let me,” the third girl said.  
  
The second girl raised her hands. “No, it's my turn to be naughty.” Tiny bolts of white lightning sparked between her fingers.  
  
“Wait,” Jackie said, “what do you mean by—” The shackles fell from her wrists. “Oh, thank God. Eric, can you...”   
  
But Eric wasn't there. Neither were Donna or Michael. She glanced around. She'd been transported to an entirely different area of the swamp.  
  
“Eric!” Her voice echoed through the moist air, but that was the only answer she received.   
  
Jackie growled and kicked a mossy stone. When she'd said she wanted to be separated, she hadn't meant like this.


	39. The Poor Boy in the Grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 3:** “Stairway to Heaven” copyright 1971 Led Zeppelin and Swan Song Inc.

  CHAPTER 39  
 **THE POOR BOY IN THE GRAVE**

Eric stopped yelling across the swamp after two minutes. If he were going to find Donna or the others, he had to start looking. He passed by some moss-covered trees and came upon a shack covered in green vines. Grimy mirrors were stuck in the the soggy ground, lined up one behind the other in a row that led to the shack's door. The sight of it made his skin prickle, and he took a step backward. Who the hell would live in a swamp?   
  
“Kermit?” he said.  
  
“Stay where you are!” A lumpy silhouette appeared behind the shack's clouded window. “Or I'll shove you in my pot!”   
  
Eric backed up further, and the door creaked open.   
  
“Who dares to enter the domain of the Swamp Witch?”  
  
“Please don't hurt me,” Eric said, “I'm just—”   
  
Standing before him in a wig made of rags and plant fibers was his old Dwarf cellmate.  
  
“Acorn?” Eric laughed and walked up to him. “Hey, man!”  
  
“Oh, hello.” The Dwarf sounded disappointed and pulled the wig off his head. “Long time, no see. You still looking for your mirror?”  
  
“No, that one got smashed... by an oaf. We're looking for another one now.” Eric glanced behind him. “You haven't seen Kelso or two girls wandering around here, have you? Some of them might've been singing 'Stairway to Heaven'.”  
  
“No. Sorry. Come in.” Acorn gestured to the shack. “I was just making some soup.”

***

The shack was cramped. Its one room had space enough for a bed, a cooking fire, and a small wooden table—which Eric was sitting at, and Acorn soon joined him with their soup.  
  
“Thanks,” Eric said and ate a spoonful. It wasn't his mother's cooking, but it didn't taste like beanstalk either. “I really thought you were the Swamp Witch out there.”   
  
Acorn chuckled. “Nah. She's been dead for years. This is a great place to lie low when you're on the run. Nobody bothers ya.”   
  
“Yeah, so... who was the Swamp Witch?” Eric said.  
  
“Who was she?” Acorn rubbed the scar that ran from his sewn-shut eye to his chin. “I thought everyone knew that.”  
  
“Nope. I'm from... a kingdom far, far away. News travels slowly there.”   
  
“Well, you know the story of Snow White? The Swamp Witch was the wicked stepmother who tried to kill her. This is where she crawled to after they made her dance in her red-hot slippers. She spent the rest of her life plotting revenge, but she was too weak to carry it out. Then she found someone to do it for her.”  
  
Eric choked on a soggy piece of carrot. “Who was that?” he said, but he already had an idea.  
  
“Oh...” Acorn waved to a dusty trapdoor beside his bed. “Swamp Witch is buried in the basement. Why don't you go down and ask her?”  
  
Eric sighed but went to the trapdoor. Everything in him wanted to run screaming from the shack, except for the nagging feeling he'd find what he was looking for here... whatever it was.   
  
“Personally,” Acorn stood up, “I wouldn't go down there for all the gold in the Nine Kingdoms.” He handed Eric a lit candle.  
  
“Great,” Eric said. He yanked open the trapdoor. Dank air and the smell of rot rushed out from below. He held his breath, prayed there weren't any spiders in the basement, and descended the stairs.  
  
An iron gate met him at the bottom, and it gave a rusty shriek as Eric pushed it open. Blackened mirrors with rotted frames hung on the walls. A rocky pool of swamp water took up half the floor, and floating on the surface was a coffin... with a shriveled corpse inside.   
  
“Laurie's been here,” Eric whispered to himself. ”I know it.”  
  
He looked closer at the corpse, and images forced their way into his mind...  
  
Laurie was sitting on a park bench at night. Alone. She yawned and glanced around.  
  
“Are you bored, my child?” a woman's voice echoed at her from the air.  
  
Laurie looked up. An oval blur shimmered among the trees, and Eric focused on it. The Traveling mirror. It had to be.   
  
“Let me show you some real excitement,” said the voice. A white-haired crone was standing within the blur, and Eric cursed inside his mind. Snow White's Evil Stepmother. She couldn't be anyone else.  
  
“Come to me,” she said and extended a bejeweled hand through the mirror.   
  
Laurie shrugged. “What the hell. I've got nothing better to do.”   
  
Eric wanted to stop her, but he was helpless to do anything but watch. All this had already happened.  
  
Laurie grabbed the crone's hand, and she lurched into the mirror as if she'd been yanked. She emerged by the shack in the swamp.  
  
“Come with me,” the crone said and guided her to the line of grimy mirrors, “and you will lose your boredom forever.”  
  
“Cool,” Laurie said, “but it stinks here... or maybe it's just you.”  
  
The crone gestured to the mirrors. “I am dying, but my work is unfinished. The House of Snow White survives. You will do my work for me, and I will give you all my power.”  
  
Laurie smirked. “Power's nice... but work sucks. I'll pass.”  
  
She tried to pull away, but the crone wouldn't let her go. A dark light was glowing in the old woman's chest.  
  
“Hey,” Laurie said. She squirmed in the crone's grip. “What do you think you're do—”  
  
The light shot into Laurie's body and shone briefly in her eyes. Then she stood silently as the crone faded into nothingness...  
  
But Eric knew where she'd gone.   
  
He was back in the basement-tomb with her. The images inside his mind had faded, too. He approached the corpse's skull-like face.  
  
“You bitch,” he said quietly. “You screwed with the wrong man's sister.”  
  
_ Poison is the way the Queen will strike,  _ Snow White's voice sounded in his head,  _ and the way she must be defeated. You will find your weapon in a grave. _   
  
Eric searched the corpse's skeletal body with his eyes. In its withered hand was a golden comb, the poisoned comb.   
  
He ripped part of the lining from his coat. Then he grasped the comb with it, but the comb wouldn't budge. The corpse's fingers were wrapped around that sucker tight.  
  
_ Do not think, _ Snow White's voice said.  _ Become.  
  
_ “Use the Force,” he said to himself.  
  
He pried the bony fingers off the comb and pulled it free. The teeth of the comb were long and sharp—and poisonous. He turned toward the gate, but before he could take another step, the corpse grabbed his wrist.  
  
“You are nothing,” the corpse shouted. “She will crush you!”  
  
He gasped and wrenched himself away. A hiss emanated from the corpse's mouth as its arm returned to its withered breast. Why couldn't that have been an old man in a mask, like in  _ Scooby Doo,  _ instead of an actual dead person?   
  
Eric wound the lining completely around the comb and stuffed it into his coat pocket. Then he got the hell out of the basement.

***

Kelso had followed “Stairway to Heaven” to a little island covered in leaf litter and orange-capped mushrooms. Robert Plant wasn't there. Neither was Jimmy Paige. Instead, a frying pan with five eggs, a fire to cook them with, and four place settings had been set up.   
  
“Hey,” he shouted into the swamp, “anybody gonna eat these eggs?”   
  
No answer. His luck really had changed, and he was starving.  
  
He sat down by the fire and cracked the eggs into the frying pan. Everything was set up for him so perfectly.   
  
Out of seemingly nowhere, Donna sat down beside him. “Save some for me!” she said “I'm starving.”  
  
“I know! Isn't this great?” He was really happy to see her. She'd probably followed the music to the island, too. “All of this was just lying here, Donna. Led Zeppelin wants to feed us!” He stirred the eggs over the fire.   
  
“What good is an omelet with nothing to put it in?” a distinctly male voice said. Kelso glanced at the orange-capped mushrooms. They all seemed to have tiny faces. “Pop in a couple of mushrooms like us, for instance.”   
  
“Donna,” Kelso said, “did you just see—”   
  
“I did.” She was laughing. “They're so cute. Look, they're swaying to the music.”  
  
“We're delicious,” another mushroom said.  
  
Kelso grinned. “Oh, no. I am not going to eat you.”  
  
“We weren't suggesting you should. We were just trying to point out the tarragon, right over there.” A mushroom nodded to an area behind Donna.  
  
“Ooh, really?” She pulled a green herb from the ground and sniffed it. “Smells like the real thing.”  
  
“It is the real thing. It's one of the essential ingredients of a mushroom omelet,” another mushroom said.  
  
“N'uh-uh.” Kelso wagged a finger at the mushrooms. “I'm not gonna get caught that easi—Donna!”  
  
She'd already added the tarragon into the pan.  
  
“Mushroom omelet,” the first mushroom said, “a nice glass of Chateau Swamp, a little snooze...” The mushrooms all pretended to snore.  
  
“Okay, cut it out,” Kelso said.  
  
“Well, at least have a drink,” the mushroom said. “You look parched.”  
  
Kelso furrowed his brow. “I'm not gonna drink any swamp water.”  
  
“I know it's not the cleanest thing in the world,” the mushroom said, “but it does pack a punch. It'll take you right up the beanstalk and back, know what I'm sayin'?”  
  
“Yeah, but I'm not gonna—” Kelso looked down at his hand. He was holding a tin cup, and it was half-full of swamp water. “Oops.” He'd taken a drink without realizing.  
  
Donna was clutching a tin cup, too, and laughing. Man, it had been so long since they had a circle. Maybe a mushroom or two wouldn't hurt.

***

Jackie yawned. Something about the swamp made her so sleepy. Maybe it was the rot smell or the mist. Whatever it was, she was tired of it—and just plain tired of wandering around the squishy, mossy ground, looking for...  
  
She smelled something different, something good like Eggs Benedict or Eggs Florentine. Two people were sitting up ahead on a raised island. One had red hair.  
  
“Donna?” Jackie ran forward. “Donna! Michael!”  
  
“Oh, hey!” Donna said.  
  
“Oh, my God—I thought I'd never see you again,” Jackie said.  
  
“Come on up here.” Michael patted the mossy ground next to him. “You want an omelet?” He was holding a frying pan. Tin cups filled with water sat between him and Donna.  
  
“Guys, you're not drinking swamp water, are you?” Jackie said.   
  
Donna rolled her eyes. “Of course not.”   
  
“Good, because—” Someone brushed by Jackie's shoulder and yawned next to her ear. “Eric?”   
  
“Acorn said I'd find you here.” Eric slid his arm around Jackie and used her as a support. “Man, I can barely keep my eyes open. So this is Mushroom Island, huh? I'm so glad I found—” he yawned again, “you guys. Hey, is that food?”  
  
Jackie slipped out from Eric's arm. He was acting really strange, but she was too tired and too hungry to care.  
  
“I made omelets,” Michael said. “There's plenty for everyone.”  
  
“Look,” Donna said, “we're only going to be here for five minutes. Sit down, have a bite, and then we'll all get out of here.”  
  
“Okay...” Jackie climbed onto the island and sat next to Michael, “but we can't fall asleep, no matter how—” she yawned again, “tired we are.”  
  
Eric sat beside Donna and said, “Of course not.”

***

“You guys, that was fantastic.” Jackie scooped the last bit of omelet onto her fork and ate it. The green light of the swamp and the swirling mist danced so prettily together, like two ballerinas. And the music—she finally understood why Steven loved Led Zeppelin so much.   
  
“Those mushrooms are far out,” Donna said. She and Eric dipped their tin cups into the swamp, pulled them out, and clanked them together. Then they took a long sip.  
  
Jackie smacked both of their knees. “Donna! Eric! What are you doing?”  
  
“What? Look who's talking,” Eric said.  
  
Jackie froze. Her own tin cup was at her lips.  
  
“You've had three cups,” Donna said.  
  
“Three?” Jackie giggled. “I had three?”  
  
Donna nodded.   
  
“Okay,” Eric said. “I need to lie down for a little while. It's really essential. It can't wait.” He stretched out on his side and closed his eyes.  
  
“Yeah, me, too.” Donna yawned and curled up next to Eric. “Just a few minutes, and I'll be... good.”  
  
Jackie combed a hand through her hair. This was bad. Michael had half-fallen asleep already by the mushrooms, but she crawled beside him without hesitation and lay down. The music had grown louder. It was soothing, and it reminded her of Steven, and the mushrooms were humming along as Michael sang sleepily,   
  
_ If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now.   
It's just a spring clean for the May Queen.   
  
_ Jackie leaned her head on her arm and shut her eyes. She just needed a little nap, a little beauty sleep...  
  
_ Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run   
There's still time to change the road you're on...  _   
  
She was back home in her pink bedroom, in her childhood bed.   
  
She was seven-years-old.  
  
_ Jackie, wake up! _ Snow White said deep in her mind. _ Wake up, Jackie!  
  
_ Jackie jerked awake. “Mommy!”   
  
Both her parents were sitting on her bed. The wedding bell bedspread was so thick and heavy, and she was so small it trapped her.   
  
“It's all right, honey,” her mother said. “You were having a bad dream. That's all.”  
  
Jackie grabbed ahold of both her parents' hands. “Tell me a story.”  
  
“All right,” her father said. “Once upon a time, there was a lovely little girl who lived on the edge of the forest.”  
  
Her mother was combing Jackie's hair while he spoke. The comb was gold with long, sharp teeth.  
  
“Her parents told her never go to into the forest,” Jackie's father continued, “but do you know what her parents did?”   
  
Jackie shook her head.   
  
“Yes, you do,” her mother said in her trilling voice. “Her parents brought her into the forest and left her there. A monster found her, and then she died. And everyone forgot about her, and we all lived happily ever after.”  
  
“Jackie, where are you?” Michael said. “I need you!” He was sitting on a golden throne, completely naked except for the crown on his head. Fez stood beside him, still a dog, also wearing a crown.   
  
Jackie was sixteen now and walking briskly through a decrepit forest. She had on the most beautiful white dress and a crown adorned with diamonds. An empty basket dangled from her arm.  
  
“Michael!” she shouted. She knew her voice would reach him through the trees. “Look, I just had to break up with you. You've still got Laurie. Just go to her room. She'll give you what you want.”  
  
“Hold on a second!” Michael said. “You can't break up with me. You're always supposed to be there. You're my princess, my bossy-boss. I miss you.”  
  
Jackie's basket had grown heavy. It was filled with golden wedding bells.   
  
“Plus,” Michael pointed in the air, “I got a really horny friend here.” He petted Fez's back. “You should be here taking care of him... or at least letting him watch you take care of me.”  
  
“Why don't you just take care of each other?” Jackie screamed. Then she took a wedding bell from her basket and caressed it.  
  
_ Wake up! Wake up, or all is lost.  
  
_ She rang the bell. The sound echoed through the woods, but no one showed up. Where was he? She rang the bell harder.  _ Where was he? _ Her breaths grew shallow. He wasn't going to show. How dare he ignore her call! She hurled the bell at a tree, and it smashed into a thousand golden pieces.  
  
“Oh, come on!” Michael said from his throne. He had a hard-on. “I need some lovin' here!”  
  
Jackie clutched at her neck and coughed. She couldn't breathe. Her legs were collapsing beneath her.   
  
“Hey, I'm not gonna sit here getting soft,” Michael said. “Someone do me!”  
  
Jackie's head hit the ground.  
  
She was back in the swamp. Vines were strangling her neck. They constricted around her waist and wrists. The island was pulling her down, suffocating her...  
  
The pressure on her throat tightened, and then it disappeared completely. Coughs shook her body, but air was reaching her lungs. She could breathe. Something—some _ one _ was tearing the vines off her.   
  
“I believe in the Force, Vader!” Eric said from somewhere.  
  
“I died.” That was Michael. “I died back there. The Water Tower fell on me.”  
  
“Robby Henderson had me in a choke hold,” Donna said, “but I'm the best J.V. Wrestler. Me!”  
  
Jackie barely heard any of them. She was still partially in her own dream. “I never should have rung that bell!”   
  
Someone pulled her gently from the mossy ground. “Jackie...”   
  
She opened her eyes. It was Steven.   
  
“Oh, my God!” Jackie threw herself against him. Her fingers dug into his soft hair. “Are you really here?”   
  
He separated from her and cupped her face with both hands. He was smiling, all the way to his eyes.   
  
“How...” She stroked his cheeks. They were beardless and smooth except for his sideburns. “How did you find us?  
  
“I've been trying to catch up with you for too damn long,” he said.   
  
Jackie pulled him close again, “Oh, my God,” and cried into his neck. He'd come back for her, to her. And she wasn't ever going to let him go. 


	40. I Wasn't Keeping Score

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 40  
** I WASN'T KEEPING SCORE **

Eric, Donna, and Michael were each clutching a part of Steven's body—his arm, his waist, his leg. “Where have you been?” they said. “Where did you go?” and squeezed him tighter, as if they were the vines of Mushroom Island.   
  
Jackie pinched them all and wrenched Steven free. He'd just saved them from being choked to death. She wasn't about to let him be strangled by their display of relief.   
  
“Thanks,” Steven said and took her hand.   
  
“Hey! I want some answers,” Michael said, but Eric and Donna dragged him forward.   
  
Jackie was thankful for the privacy. Steven seemed to be, too, because they started a slow, silent walk together through the swamp.   
  
“Where did you go,” she said after a while, “when I—when you left Kissing Town?”   
  
He shrugged. “I kinda just wandered around, thought about some shit. Figured out where you were headed a few days ago.”  
  
“But how? We went through a mountain.”  
  
Steven slowed their pace even more. “Jackie, I don't have a lot that makes me happy. It's basically french fries, Zeppelin, my car, and you. Your voice could reach me in the Ninth Circle of Hell.” He was grinning. “It's like a shrill, abrasive beacon.”   
  
Jackie stopped them. “You seem different, Steven.”  
  
“So? I thought that's what you wanted.”   
  
He took a step forward, but she pulled him back.   
  
“No, Steven. No. Just you.” She drew him close and kissed his lips softly. “I'm so, so sorry. I didn't know how to trust what you were saying in Kissing Town. I wanted to. God, you have no idea how much—”  
  
“Jackie, don't.” His voice was as tender as it had been back in Kissing Town, and it made her chest ache. “I get why you couldn't.”   
  
She stroked the back of his hair and sighed. “But I should never have... I know I hurt you, and I promise I'll use less painful tactics to manipulate you from now on.”  
  
“Can't wait.”   
  
“And all I want is for us to be happy.” Jackie plucked his ring off her thumb. “ _ Us. _ Not just me. Love is eternal, Steven. If we ever do get married, I expect my wedding to be glorious, with the sun setting behind me and white doves and all that, but it's only a moment. I'd rather have you.”   
  
She placed the ring back into his palm. He wrapped his fingers around it—and her hand.   
  
“Why don't you hold onto that until I can get you something better?” he said.  
  
Jackie stared at him. He'd just... Had he just? But she couldn't even think it. She let him slip the ring back onto her thumb, and they started forward again. 

***

The swamp finally opened out into woodland. The ground was dry and solid beneath Jackie's feet, and the air smelled fresh and crisp. Despite the noonday sun, leaving the muggy, damp marshland had made her cold. Steven stayed close to her though, and the heat of his body kept her from shivering.  
  
Michael was running through the trees, and he stopped by a giant, silver-trunked beech. “Hey, it's the castle!” he said. “All right!”   
  
Everyone rushed to his side. They were in a clearing. Fez's castle overlooked acres of green fields and gardens, and the castle itself had many towers and turrets. Jackie couldn't believe Fez had hidden his true heritage from them for so long, but she was glad he did. She might have actually dated him if she'd known—and then never ended up with Steven.   
  
“Fez's castle, it has to be,” Donna said. “It's only a few more miles away.”  
  
“That's where the mirror is,” Eric said.  
  
Jackie hugged Steven's arm to her. “That's how we're getting home!”   
  
“Let's take a rest before we go,” Eric said. He was understandably jittery, considering who was also waiting for them at the castle. He took out a tin pitcher from his knapsack. “I saw a stream back there. I'll get us some water.”  
  
Donna grabbed his hand. “I'll go with you. Why don't you guys get some wood?”  
  
“Sure,” Steven said. He was smirking. “Jackie, you wanna get some wood?”   
  
“Oh!” Michael shot up from the beech he'd been leaning on. “I would!”  
  
“No, we need you to guard this spot,” Jackie said. “This. Very. Spot. Don't move from it.”   
  
Michael crossed his arms. “Aw, but I wanted to start a fire.”   
  
“And you will once Steven and I bring back the wood.”   
  
“Fine,” Michael said and slumped back against the beech.

***

A hazy glow permeated the trees, lit by fat sunbeams and roofed by a clear blue sky. These woods were quite beautiful, and Jackie didn't mind them. She looked over at Steven. He was gathering fallen branches, but his eyes remained focused on her.  
  
“Steven,” she picked up a small twig and twirled it between her fingers, “I've always wanted to do something in a forest... and I want you to do it with me.”   
  
“You got it.” His sticks clattered to the ground, and he grabbed her around the waist.   
  
She slid her hands up his clean-shaven cheeks. “I want you so badly, Steven.”   
  
“'Course you do,” he said. Then his lips brushed against her ear. “I want you, too.”   
  
“Great. Cover your eyes and count to one-hundred.”   
  
He pulled away, but only a little. “What?”   
  
“I'm going to run into the woods and hide,” she said.  
  
“Jackie—tell me you're kidding.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“You wanna play hide-and-seek.” He was staring at her, but he sounded amused.  
  
She nodded.   
  
“Fine, but I'm gonna cheat.” He let her go and covered his eyes.   
  
“So you'll do it?”  
  
“Anything for you, doll. One, two...” he peeked through his fingers, “your ass better start running—three, four...”   
  
Jackie sped through the trees. Steven had raised his voice, probably so she could hear his shameless number-skipping.  
  
“Eleven, twelve, thirty-five, seventy-two, seventy-three, eighty-seven...”   
  
She dashed toward a dense patch of bushes.  
  
“Ninety-nine, one-hundred—better be ready, Jackie!”  
  
Jackie darted through the bushes and glanced over her shoulder. Steven was tearing through the woods in her direction, but then he veered to the left and disappeared behind a thick oak.  
  
She was still running. Her breathing had become rough and fast, and the chilled air scraped her throat. She ducked into a small hollow underneath a fallen tree. She needed a chance to regroup.   
  
The bushes rustled a few feet away from the hollow. It was Steven, and he ran past without stopping. He hadn't seen her.  
  
She dashed off again, but her heart was beating too fast.  Her pulse vibrated all the way into her fingertips.  The bushes gave way to a sea of fern, and she hid herself among the fronds. She didn't want him to find her... he had to find her. She considered leaving him a clue, like her blouse.  
  
Before she could unclasp the top button, Steven sprang out of the undergrowth and pulled her into his arms. Leaves were stuck in his hair, his clothes, and he was breathing hard.  
  
“I win,” he said.  
  
She slipped a hand behind his head and drew him closer. “We'll see.”   
  
Their mouths met, and the warmth between them became heat as they kissed each other. He took off her jacket then unbuttoned her blouse. She lay back on them, unhooking her bra in the process, and Steven was on top of her.   
  
His fingers slid over her palm and grasped her hand. He always formed that connection with her before they went further. It let her know she wasn't just a body to him, that this was far more than just physical.   
  
His lips trailed down her neck, between her breasts, down her stomach, leaving kisses that both cooled and electrified her skin. They traveled up her sides and across her arms, lingered for a moment at each wrist. She smiled as he touched her, started to lose herself in the sensations he was causing her to feel.   
  
He held her hand more firmly, and his other caressed her cheeks, the curve of her shoulder. It moved lower, and his palm warmed her breast. Their time apart became nothing, and the brush of his fingertips elicited quiet moans from her, dissolved  all thoughts but those of him.  Then his mouth replaced his fingers, making her grip the back of his hair and cry out in pleasure.   
  
She tore off his jacket and pulled off his shirt. Her fingers skimmed over his chest and gripped his shoulder. She wanted him to feel how much she loved him, how much she cherished him. Her tongue ran lightly over the the hollow of his throat. Her teeth gently nipped the skin of his neck, and he sucked in a sharp breath.   
  
Her lips soon returned to his mouth, and the rhythm of their kissing spread to the rest of their bodies. He thrust into her, though they still had their pants on. It was sweet he didn't want to rush things, but his rhythm was as familiar to her as his voice. Even with her eyes closed, she'd know it was him. His movements sent ecstatic pulses through her. They made her say his name.   
  
He drew his face back and looked at her. His eyes were as blue and tranquil as the sky. They were love. She sighed peacefully and reached for his zipper.   
  
“Jackie, are you sure?” he said. “We don't have any—”  
  
She pulled a little something she'd bought in Kissing Town from her pocket, and Steven grinned.  
  
Together they ripped off the rest of their clothing, and she put the lambskin on him. Then he slid into her—slowly. It had been a long time for both of them, and he asked her again if she was sure.   
  
She nodded, and the pressure between her thighs became a rhythmic ebb and flow. Steven's breaths grew heavier, his movements deeper and more intense, but he was still with her. She wanted to close her eyes... her pleasure was increasing. She needed to stay with him more.   
  
“Steven...” she whispered into his cheek, “you make me feel so damn good, Steven.”   
  
“Jackie—” And for a few moments he couldn't say anything but that. “Jackie—” Then, “Jackie, you make me... feel.”   
  
She laced her fingers behind his neck. He was smiling at her, and she couldn't hold on any longer. “God, Steven—I love you.”  
  
Soon his movements became less regular, his breathing more shallow. “Ja... Jackie—” She felt his body shudder as he released.  
  
He pulled out. Then he kissed her for a long while. When they finally parted, he gazed at her without any shred of his defenses.   
  
“I love you,” he said quietly.   
  
She cradled his face. “Steven... ”   
  
“Jackie,” his thumb stroked her wrist, “you really screwed me, you know?”   
  
“Um...” she wasn't quite sure how to take that, “thank you?”   
  
“No—damn it. That's not what I... Other girls mean shit to me, man. That's why I couldn't—after you, I didn't want...” He sighed, as if he were giving into something. “You're it for me.”   
  
She pulled his face down and kissed him deeply. His admission had rekindled her need to be close with him. Her fingers looped themselves in his curls, and his mouth moved against hers with renewed vigor.   
  
“I still want you,” she said in between kisses.   
  
“Jackie, the feeling's mutual, as I think you can tell, but we used up the only—”  
  
“There's another one in my pocket.”  
  
He snatched her pants off the ground.“Huh. Planning ahead does pay off.”  
  
Jackie sat up and gently pushed Steven down. “This time, you get to have your ass in the dirt,” she said.  
  
“Fine by me. I like dirt,” he said.  
  
“Yeah...” She straddled his waist and lowered herself onto him. Fern leaves tickled her back as she began to move.   
  
His hands found her hips, but they stopped her from moving. “Jackie,” he spoke softly, “I really do love you.” And then his grip on her loosened.   
  
Her pulse tightened. The sadness in his voice scared her a little, but she surged against him. Her love for him was in her every movement, and soon they moved together—and she felt his love for her. She found herself declaring it over and over, “I love you, Steven. I love you.” And even after they both climaxed again, she said it.  
  
She sank down over his body, exhausted.   
  
He slid his arms around her, and his lips pressed into her shoulder. “I'm so damn in love with you,” he said.   
  
She felt her muscles tense. “Steven, is something wrong? That's the third time you've said—”   
  
“Jackie, I'm not counting.”  
  
Her body relaxed. His words warmed her as much as his arms, and for the first time in her whole life, she let herself just be. 


	41. The Thief and His Master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

 CHAPTER 41  
 **THE THIEF AND HIS MASTER**

Kelso had gotten bored after fifteen minutes of tree guarding. He'd fallen asleep after thirty. The beech's roots made for a lousy pillow, though, so he awoke after another twenty minutes. He thought he was still alone, but then he spotted Donna and Eric curled up together under the shade of the beech.   
  
That was good. He was thirsty, and Eric's tin pitcher was sitting on the grass. Kelso picked it up.  
  
The pitcher was empty.   
  
“Hey, where's the water?” Kelso said.   
  
“Drank it,” Eric mumbled.  
  
Kelso turned the pitcher upside-down. Not even a drop. “Why didn't you just refill it in the stream?”   
  
“Drank that, too,” Donna said.  
  
“The whole stream? Man, you're gonna be pissing rivers.”   
  
Eric and Donna waved lazily at him and shut their eyes.  
  
“Wait, how could you drink the whole—”  
  
Jackie strolled in from behind the beech tree before Kelso could finish the question. Her jacket was half off her shoulders, leaves were stuck to her hair, and the buttons of her blouse were fastened wrong.  
  
“Where's the wood for my fire?” Kelso said.   
  
“Oh, couldn't find any.” She walked past him as if she were in a daze. Her eyes were half-closed.  
  
“You couldn't find any wood,” he said, “in a forest?”  
  
Jackie ignored him, but then Hyde sauntered in from the woods. Leaves stuck out from his hair, too, and his shirt wasn't tucked into his jeans.  
  
“Hey, Kelso.” Hyde had a huge grin on his face, but nothing in his hands.  
  
“You don't have any wood either?” Kelso said.  
  
“Not anymore.” Hyde walked past him and followed Jackie.   
  
Kelso glanced at Eric and Donna spooning on the grass. Then he looked at Jackie and Hyde, who were making out by a spindly tree.   
  
“What the hell did I miss?” he said, but he knew it was something good and something he wasn't part of. And it made him miss Fez more than he already did. 

***

Eric and Donna eventually got Kelso some water, and Jackie and Hyde got him his firewood. Their lunch consisted of some dried salami Hyde had swiped when he was on his own, but Kelso was eager to get to the castle. The mirror was there—and Fez probably was, too, thanks to those Trolls and the Huntsman.   
  
After lunch, it took them another half-hour to reach the border between the woods and civilization. A cobblestone road lay beyond the last stretch of trees, and the sound of horses' hooves made Kelso cringe. White horses were pulling an ornately decorated coach toward Fez's castle. One of its passengers was laughing uproariously while three violinists played for him.  
  
“Oh, my God,' Donna said. “I think that's Old King Cole.”  
  
“How do you know that?” Kelso said.  
  
Eric smiled. “Old King Cole was a merry old soul.”   
  
“Exactly.” Donna pointed to the coach. “He's got three fiddlers, he's wearing a crown, and the initials 'K.C.' are painted on the coach door.”   
  
“My lady,” Eric said, “not only are you the most beautiful girl in the Ten Kingdoms, but you're also the most observ—OW! _”_  
  
Jackie had kicked him.  
  
“It's not nice to tell lies to the people you love,” she said.   
  
“But you lie to Hyde all the ti—”   
  
Jackie kicked him again. “It's not nice to tell the people _you_ love lies, Eric.”  
  
“I'm not lying!” Eric bent over and rubbed his shin.  
  
“Steven,” she said, “tell him—and Donna—who the most beautiful girl in the Ten Kingdoms really is.”  
  
“Farrah Fawcett.”  
  
“Exac—what?”   
  
Hyde smirked, but Kelso didn't watch for Jackie's reaction. He returned his attention to the road. A wagon was trundling by, piled high with presents and bouquets of flowers. It was followed by another ornately decorated coach, carrying royalty of some kind.  
  
“They must be going to the castle for Fez's coronation,” Jackie said.  
  
Kelso scratched his head. “Already?”  
  
“Forman.” Hyde tapped Eric's shoulder and nodded to a thick oak further back in the woods. Everyone but Kelso went toward it.   
  
“What are you guys doing?” Kelso gestured to the castle. “Let's just walk in there.”   
  
Hyde glared at him. “That's not Fez's castle anymore, moron. It's gotta be controlled by the Queen. His guards have probably sold out, man. You can't trust anyone.” He settled onto one of the oak's sprawling roots.   
  
Eric sat beside him. “Normally, I'd say that was your usual paranoid schtick, but I'm with you buddy.” He drummed his fingers on his knees. “Hyde... man, I gotta tell you something.”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“The Queen, she's—it's Laurie.”   
  
“Had that one figured out a long time ago,” Hyde said.  
  
“Wha—” Eric blinked and shook his head. “How the hell did you do that?”  
  
“Who else could turn Fez into a dog just by nailing him?”  
  
“Why—why didn't... How could—” Eric was stuttering, and his eyes were bugging out. Kelso felt bad for the guy. This was really hard on him. “Why didn't you tell me?”  
  
“'Cause I didn't want you to freak out, man. We've got enough trouble just trying to get our asses back home.”  
  
“But—”  
  
Donna rubbed Eric's shoulder. “Eric, he's right. Knowing that wouldn't have helped any of us.”  
  
Eric opened his mouth as if he were going to protest, but then he sighed.   
  
“Okay,” Kelso said, “what now?”  
  
“We hang out here,” Hyde said, “wait 'til it gets dark before we try to enter 'Fort Laurie'.”   
  
“Well, what're we gonna do for the rest of the day?” Kelso frowned. He wasn't very good at entertaining himself without at least a rubber ball he could use to annoy people.  
  
“Sleep,” Jackie said. She shoved Eric off the tree root and sat down. Then she rolled her jacket into a makeshift pillow. “We're exhausted.”   
  
Hyde slipped his arm around her waist. “Yup,” he said. “Getting wood is hard work.” He leaned back on the rolled-up jacket, and Jackie lay her head on Hyde's chest.   
  
“So is getting water,” Eric said. He and Donna were nestled together between two thick roots.  
  
Kelso stared at the four of them. “Really, guys! What the hell did I miss?”

***

Jackie had always dreamed of going to a royal coronation—her own, of course—with lesser princesses watching as she was crowned Queen. Instead, she was swimming in a disgusting moat. Steven had sneaked everyone under the castle's drawbridge. Fez's coronation fireworks were bursting loudly in the night sky, but she couldn't see them. Her clothes were soaked with cold, muddy moat water. And that was what she was calling it, _muddy._ Otherwise she'd be screaming and the guards would hear and they'd all get caught.   
  
Yet despite the mud, she was happier in the moat than she ever could've been with a bejeweled crown on her head because Steven was here, and he loved her, and he was keeping stupid Michael from splashing them.  
  
“Oh, come on,” Michael whispered. “When are we ever gonna have another chance at a moat fight?”   
  
“Shut up already.” Steven pointed to an iron grate in the wall across from them. The grate was half submerged in water. “That looks decent.”   
  
“Decent for what?” Eric said.  
  
Steven swam to the grate and grabbed one of its bars. “If we swim under this, we'll probably end up in the castle somewhere.”  
  
“Somewhere?” Donna said.  
  
“Oh, good,” Eric said. “Good plan. Why don't you just hold our heads underwater now and get it over with?”   
  
“Whatever.” Steven took a deep breath, but Jackie swam to him before he could dive under the water.  
  
“Steven, wait. What if you get stuck and drown?”  
  
“Then this moat'll have one badass corpse floating in it.” He took another deep breath and plunged under the water.  
  
“Hyde!” Eric whispered, but Steven was gone. The moat was sloshing against the grate. “No way am I diving under that water for only a chance I could surface _somewhere_.”  
  
“Well, he's not coming out. He must have found the way in,” Donna said.  
  
N'uh-uh,” Michael said. “He could've just run out of air and dr—”  
  
Jackie splashed him in the face. Then she inhaled as much air as her lungs would allow and thrust herself under the water.  
  
The stones beneath the grate were coated with a slick film. Jackie dug her nails in the tiny spaces between them and maneuvered into an underwater tunnel. Her eyes were open, but they might as well have been closed. No light reached where she swam.  
  
She didn't think about what the darkness meant, only moved forward. She was a mermaid in the ocean searching for her lover, the scruffy prince with two legs where his tail should've been. She was an Olympic synchronized swimmer on her way to a gold metal. She was...  
  
Running out of air. Her chest burned, but she refused to let her mouth open and take in a watery, final breath. Steven was waiting for her.  
  
She swam further then bumped into something hard, a stone wall. An end to the tunnel. Her end. Her lungs were forcing open her mouth.  
  
No. Steven was waiting for her.  
  
She clamped her jaw tight and pushed herself down along the wall. The water pressed against her. It was flowing into an opening underneath the wall.  
  
The water took her. Light sparkled in front of her eyes, and then she bobbed to the surface.  
  
She gasped. Air rushed deep into her lungs and made her cough.  
  
“Hey, over here.” Steven was crouching on the ledge of a stone floor. Barrels and jugs were scattered behind him, and the place was lit by torches. He stretched his hand toward her. “Use those legs, tiny dancer.”  
  
“Shut up!” Jackie coughed out, but her annoyance made her swim to him faster. She reached the ledge, and he pulled her from the moat.   
  
“Knew you'd make it.” He was smiling, and he patted her back to help her breathe. “You've got the biggest set of lungs in the Ten Kingdoms.”  
  
Jackie should've kicked him for that, but all she could do was hug him. “Thank God you're okay.”  
  
“Yeah, I'm fine, but where's the rest of them?”   
  
Jackie glanced at the moat. Its gray surface remained relatively still.   
  
“Damn it. I'm gonna have to go back and get 'em.” Steven bent down as if to take a dive, but Jackie yanked him up.  
  
“Steven, no! Just wait. I'm sure Donna's big butt didn't—”  
  
The water bubbled as Donna's pale face burst through. She gasped loudly.  
  
“Donna!” Jackie shouted. She and Steven pulled her onto the ledge.  
  
“You okay?” Steven said.  
  
Donna coughed. “I almost drowned.”  
  
Jackie rubbed her back. “Oh, don't be so dramatic. I'm sure your lungs match your feet.”  
  
“Jackie, I almost died—and you're burning me?”  
  
Steven nodded. “Yeah, she's come along way.”  
  
Moments later, Eric splashed to the surface. Donna helped him out of the moat.   
  
“That was,” he was hyperventilating, “that was—are we in a cellar?” He leaned over a barrel with the words “Finest Ale” painted on it.  
  
“Kelso—” Steven said. “Damn it!” He dove back into the moat.  
  
Michael had surfaced. He was coughing up water and flailing. Steven reached him and half-swam, half-dragged him to the ledge.  
  
“What happened?” Jackie said.   
  
Donna and Eric yanked Michael from the moat, and Steven climbed out himself.  
  
“I tried to breathe,” Michael coughed out more water, “like Aquaman.”   
  
Donna patted his back. “That dog who's in Fez's body may be getting crowned tonight, but you'll always be the King.”   
  
They waited for Michael to recover. Then they climbed up some stairs to the main part of the cellar.  
  
“I need a towel,” Michael said.   
  
“Screw towels,” Donna said. “We need weapons.”  
  
“Everybody, shut up.” Steven pointed around a corner. “Doors.”   
  
Two thick, giant doors seemed to be their only way out of the cellar. Everyone ran for them.   
  
_Ribbit.  
  
_ Jackie turned around. A toad was sitting on top of a barrel some feet away from the doors.  
  
 _Ribbit.  
  
_ Michael took a step toward it.  
  
“ _Eww,_ Michael,” Jackie said, “don't—”  
  
“One door leads to safety,” the toad said in a croaky voice. “One door leads to a horrible death.”   
  
Michael ran to the toad with Eric.   
  
“Oh, we learned this in math,” Eric said. “Damn. How does it go again?”  
  
“You may ask one question,” the toad said   
  
Michael nodded. “Okay.”  
  
“But I always lie.” _Ribbit._  
  
Michael tapped Eric's shoulder. “Okay, okay. I got this. If we ask him which door is the safe door then...”  
  
“Well, then he'll lie and say it's the other one,” Eric said.  
  
“Right...” Michael scratched his chin, “or is it the other way around?”   
  
“Time's up, man,” the toad said.  
  
A growl rose in Jackie's throat. She stomped in front of the barrel and said, “All right! _I_ have a question.” She grabbed the toad. It was slimy, but she didn't care. “What is the point in having a door that has a horrible death behind it? What does that accomplish?” She was shouting. “I mean, what is the purpose of your freakin' life? Just to be an ass?”   
  
She opened one of the doors, hurled the toad inside, and shut the door again.  
  
The toad screamed a fading scream as if it were falling. And then—  
  
 _KABOOM!  
  
_ A fire exploded behind the door. Smoke billowed from the cracks along its edges, and Steven yanked Jackie to him. He was standing by the other and, apparently, _safe_ door.   
  
“Frog-burn!” Kelso said.  
  
“Jackie,” Eric said with a gasp, “you killed Kermit.”  
  
The safe door opened to a staircase, and Steven led them up what felt like a thousand stairs before someone thought to ask him where they were going.  
  
“We gotta get to where the royal pains sleep,” he said.   
  
“Oh, yeah,” Kelso said. “Laurie's probably sleeping as close as she can to the dog she turned into Fez—”  
  
“Not close,” Steven said, “ _with._ She's gotta be. She's literally screwing the pooch, man.” He laughed, and Eric frogged him weakly.  
  
“No, he's right,” Donna said. “Laurie's gonna want to keep a really close eye on her Dog Prince.”   
  
“But what about Fez?” Jackie said. “Dog-Fez—our Fez? Where's he being kept?”   
  
“We're about to find out.” Steven opened a guilded door at the next landing. They entered a lavish hallway decorated with all sorts of marble statues and paintings. It looked like a wing at an art museum.  
  
Michael gestured to a set of double doors painted in deep blue. “This is obviously the royal bedroom,” he said in his stupid police voice. “I propose that Laurie has put our furry foreign friend in the room right next to it.”  
  
He went to another set of double doors, smaller than the others, and yanked them open. Brooms, mops, and buckets tumbled onto him.   
  
“Maybe I'm wrong,” he said.   
  
Donna whapped the back of his skull. “That's a supply closet, dillhole.” Then she and Eric helped Michael put everything back and shut the doors.  
  
Jackie walked down the hall. Another staircase was at the end of it, so she went back to a third set of double doors in the middle of the hallway.  
  
“Let's try these,” she said.  
  
“Why those?” Donna said.  
  
“Because why would any queen, Laurie or not, sleep so close to the stairs? Too noisy.”   
  
Jackie pushed open one of the doors. The room inside was dimly lit by a few candelabras and was decorated, but not nearly as opulently as the hallway.  
  
“This must be a guest room,” she said when everyone had come through the door.  
  
Eric walked deeper inside. “No.” He looked like he was about to vomit. “This is Laurie's room.”   
  
He went to a heavy curtain against the wall and slid it aside. Another chamber was behind it.   
  
“Eric?” Donna said. “Eric, are you okay?”  
  
Eric didn't answer. He simply stared.  
  
Jackie peered into the chamber. A bowl of apples sat on a marble table. Five black shrouds, each covering something about Eric's height, were positioned at equal distances around the table.  
  
“What are those?” Michael said.  
  
Everyone stepped into the chamber, and their footfalls echoed on the flagstones. Donna pulled off one of the shrouds.  
  
“Mirrors,” she whispered.  
  
“Mirrors!” Jackie repeated.  
  
They ran for the other shrouds and tore them off.  
  
“Oh! I got it!” Michael shouted. He was standing in front of a mirror whose black frame had the same Celtic spirals as the mirror that brought them to this world. The glass was shimmering with a purplish light. “That's gotta be it,” he said. “The other Traveling mirror.”   
  
Everyone joined him, and he turned a piece of the frame carved into a Celtic triskele. Light rays, white and blinding, beamed from the glass then dissolved into an image. It was Mount Hump.  
  
“Point Place. We've found it!” Donna said. “We can go home.”  
  
Eric turned away from the mirror. He seemed worse than before. Pale and twitchy.  
  
“Eric, what?” Donna said. “Let's just go. Let's get out of here while we can.”  
  
“I can't. Donna, I can't go yet.”   
  
“Yeah, what about Fez?” Michael said.   
  
“What?” Donna grabbed Eric's scrawny shoulders. “Yes. No, you can—would you guys tell him? You can go.”  
  
Jackie glanced at Steven. His face was impassive, Zen.  
  
“No, I have to see her first,” Eric said.  
  
Donna shook him. “No, you don't. She's not your sister. Whoever that person is, she's not the shameless slut we knew. She's—”  
  
“Donna, we've been led here from the beginning,” Eric said. “Don't you get it? It wasn't about the mirror. It was just a way to bring us here, to find her.”  
  
“Listen, Eric,” Donna's voice was soft and pleading, “we've gotta go home while we still can.”   
  
“What about Fez?” Michael shouted.  
  
Tears had crept into the corners of Donna's eyes. “Eric, please...”  
  
“No,” he took a shaky breath, “I have to see her.”   
  
“Your last request is totally granted.”   
  
Everyone whirled around. Laurie, dressed in scarlet and crowned with diamonds, was standing behind the marble table. The Huntsman was at her side.   
  
Jackie reached for Steven's hand, but her fingers only grabbed air. He was no longer next to her.   
  
He was in front of Laurie.   
  
“How'd I do?” he said. His head bowed slightly, which for him was the equivalent of full-body obeisance.   
  
Jackie's breath hitched. Icicles had lodged in her throat.   
  
“You kicked ass,” Laurie said.  
  
“Yeah, I figured it was safer to stick by 'em, to keep them from screwing up your plans.” Hyde pulled a small mirror, the size of a compact, from his pocket and tossed it onto the table.   
  
Frost formed beneath Jackie's skin, and she trembled as it entered her blood. That mirror was how he'd found them. It hadn't been her voice at all.   
  
“You sold us out?” Donna said. “Hyde, what the hell?”  
  
Jackie's legs were shaking, but she stepped as close to Steven as she dared. “What did you do?” Her fists were shaking. “Steven, what have you done?”  
  
“It's real easy Jackie.” He was looking right at her, and she knew now why she was so cold. His eyes were ice, frozen and biting. “I obey the Queen.”  
  
“You obey... _Obey?_ Steven, you don't obey anyone!”   
  
He shrugged and draped his arm around Laurie's shoulders.   
  
Jackie backed off, but she couldn't stop staring at him. Six months ago, the man who sat in Eric's basement, in Steven's chair had become a stranger to her. Less than twelve hours ago, they made love, and she knew him, knew his heart as well as her own. But he'd cut her out of his heart before. So easily, it seemed. Too easily. She continued to search his face but backed off even further. Was she so desperate for him, so utterly lost that she'd let a wolf into her house when she should have locked the door?  
  
“Hey, Hyde, nice burn,” Michael said casually. “Maybe your best one ever. So, Laurie, what are you doing here anyway? Remember when we used to do it?”  
  
“No.” Laurie sounded disgusted. “I've never seen any of you losers in my life.”  
  
“Uh, hello?” Eric waved. “I'm your brother. The kid you used to torture? The dumbass?”  
  
“Laurie, how could you forget all of this?” Michael strutted forward, but the Huntsman pulled out his long knife. “Come on! We did it together, like, a zillion times! In my van, in your room, in the basement, in Eric's room—”  
  
Laurie's lips pulled back into a snarl. “I said I don't know who you are, idiot.”   
  
“Laurie,” Eric said, “we came from Wisconsin, from Point Place where you used to live with me and Mom and Dad—Red. You know, ''Daddy'?”  
  
“Daddy?” Laurie's face took on a softer expression, but it vanished in a breath. “Whatever. This is just some lame magic to throw me off.”   
  
“My lady,” the Huntsman said, “we must prepare for the Coronation Ball.”   
  
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Leave me alone with the girl,” she nodded at Eric, “and take the rest to the dungeon. Bring Fez to me, too.”  
  
The Huntsman grabbed Michael around the shoulders and put the knife to his throat. Then he gestured for Jackie and Donna to follow them. Donna walked quickly. Jackie, though, hung back in the hidden chamber as long as she could.  
  
“Hyde,” Laurie's hands cupped the sides of Steven's face, “you can go to the kitchens now.” Before he could pull away, she drew him in for a kiss. Jackie shut her eyes, but she heard enough to give her the most disgusting image she'd ever imagined.   
  
“Okay, now you can go,” Laurie said.   
  
Jackie walked into the bedroom slowly, but the Huntsman kept glancing back at her. He pressed his knife into Michael's skin, which incited her to follow more closely behind.  
  
They reached the hallway outside. Steven strode past them, and the bastard gave them a smirk and thumbs-up.   
  
Jackie glared at her own thumb. His ring was still on it. She pulled the ring off but couldn't bring herself to throw it at him.   
  
“You son of a bitch,” Donna said.   
  
Michael merely whimpered.  
  
Then Steven disappeared down one of the stairwells.


	42. Brother and Sister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

  CHAPTER 42  
 **BROTHER AND SISTER**

Eric was alone with Laurie in the chamber, and h e glanced at the Traveling mirror. Home was so damn close... Had Hyde been working for Laurie since they came to this world? Was that why Laurie seemed only to remember him? Eric didn't want to believe that.  
  
Yet here Eric was.   
  
“I've felt your girly presence for a long time through my mirrors,” Laurie said. “But I've never been able to see you. Why do you think that is? You don't look very powerful to me. Has someone been helping you?” Her tone shifted into a baby-like pitch. “Some dead chick making you think your scrawny ass can actually do something?”  
  
Laurie was only inches away from him, and Eric stared right into her eyes. He had to reach her, if any part of her was truly left.   
  
“I'm your brother,” he said.  
  
She frowned. “I don't have a brother.”  
  
“Why did you kill Fez's parents?” His voice cracked. His heart was beating too damn fast. “That's not you, Laurie. That's not—”  
  
“You're so pathetic.” She leaned her arm on the Traveling mirror. A couple was making out in the grass of Mount Hump. “Your little quest has made you think you're cooler than you are, made you believe you're capable of great things.” She laughed, harder and colder than he'd ever heard from her. “But you were right in the first place, loser.”   
  
Eric's fingers twitched, and he balled them into fists. He couldn't understand it. She sounded like his sister, all right... but, at the same time, she didn't.   
  
“Come over here.” Laurie grabbed his shirt collar and dragged him to another of the uncovered mirrors. “If we were siblings, I'd be the favorite. Let's ask the mirror. Mirror's don't lie, after all.”  
  
Eric's reflection appeared as stunned as he felt. Laurie's face was reflected next to his.   
  
“Mirror, mirror on the wall...”   
  
The room dimmed around him. The only light came from the mirror, and his breathing slowed. His thinking slowed...   
  
“What are you doing to me?” he said.   
  
“Who is the coolest...” Laurie's reflection blurred, “of them all?”  
  
Eric's breathing slowed even further. “What are you doing?” His reflection fogged around the edges. He was suffocating.  
  
He jerked his head to the side. Another mirror showed his reflection with Laurie, only she wasn't standing next to him but behind. Her hands were wrapped around his throat, strangling him.  
  
Eric grabbed her wrists and tore them from his neck. “Get off!” He stumbled forward, coughing. Every breath felt like a bruise in his throat.  
  
“Huh. You're less boring than I thought you'd be,” Laurie said. “Why did you come here?”  
  
Eric held onto his neck. “To find you. To talk to you, make you realize who—”  
  
“To burn me.”   
  
“No!” Eric said. “No, I didn't.”   
  
“But I'm gonna burn you first.  _ Now. _ ” Laurie stepped toward him.  
  
“Stay the hell away from me, or—” He fumbled in the pockets of his coat. Where was it? Where was the comb?  
  
“Looking for this?” Laurie held up the comb. It's long, sharp teeth looked like tiny daggers. “I know everything, 'little brother,' all your pathetic plans—everything. You think Snow White can help you? She'd dead, lameoid. Dead! That's why she sent a girl after me with old magic.”  
  
She laughed, almost a giggle this time. Then she scraped the comb along one cheek. “Is it poisoned?” She seemed almost turned on by the thought and scraped the comb along her other cheek. The teeth didn't draw blood.  
  
“No,” Eric said.  
  
“Oh, you're such a liar. If this were to break my skin,” she ran the comb along her forehead, “it would kill me—and what a burn that would be, huh? But it's pretty,” she slid the comb into her hair behind the diamond crown, “so I'll keep it.”   
  
“Is there any part of you, any part of you at all that—” Eric swallowed, “loved anyone? Me? Mom... Dad?”   
  
Laurie froze, as if the mere mention of their father had cast a spell on her. Her eyes shut, and tiny droplets of clear liquid shone on her lashes when she opened them.   
  
Tears?   
  
She staggered forward and leaned on a mirror for support. “That's not me!” she shouted. Her hands covered her face, and she cried out as if she were frightened. Then her arms lowered to her sides.  
  
She was looking at Eric now with definite tears in her eyes and the softest, saddest expression ever to grace her.  
  
That was his sister, and she recognized him.  
  
Footsteps echoed on the flagstone floor. “My lady,” it was the Huntsman's voice, “we have a problem in the kitchens.”  
  
Laurie's face flushed, and she winced as if she were in pain. “Take this girl away and lock her up.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks. “I'll finish with her afterward.”   
  
The Huntsman grasped Eric's arms and dragged him toward the bedroom.   
  
“After what?” Eric shouted, and the Huntsman put his knife to Eric's throat. “What're you gonna do to everyone?”  
  
“No worse burn than you would do to me,” Laurie said.

***

The dungeon cell was gray and windowless, and it reminded Jackie of Steven's room. Donna hadn't stopped cursing since they were brought in here, alternating her rage between Laurie and Steven. And Michael kept crying about how “Hyde wouldn't do this to us.”   
  
Jackie, though, remained quiet. She was sitting on a stone block, twisting Steven's ring on her thumb.   
  
“Kelso, how could you have asked Laurie all those stupid questions?” Donna said, probably tired of attacking a target who wasn't there.   
  
“It was a strategy!” Michael yelled.   
  
“Hey, leave Michael alone, okay?” Jackie went over to him and rubbed his shoulder. “He's been through enough. We all have.”  
  
Michael sniffled. “Thanks, Jackie.”   
  
Donna crossed her arms. “How can you be so calm, Jackie? Don't you want to rip out Hyde's scrotum? We're down here, and Eric's alone up there with that bitch, and it's all Hyde's fault!”   
  
“Donna, I don't—”  
  
Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. Then the cell door banged open, and the Huntsman shoved Eric inside. Jackie wanted to rip out  _ the Huntsman's _ scrotum, but the door slammed shut, and he disappeared before she had any chance.  
  
“Eric!” Donna ran to his side and half-carried him to a stone block. “Are you okay?”  
  
“That's not her, Donna. That's not my sister!” He was crying. The sight of Eric's tears usually made nausea rise in Jackie's throat, but this time they only made her feel sad.  
  
“Sure looks like her,” Michael said. “Then again, Fez is a dog.”  
  
Eric wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “No, it's her. It's her personality, but it's not...” he took a deep breath. The tears had stopped. “I don't think her soul's alone in there.”   
  
“Since when does Laurie have a soul?” Jackie said.  
  
“I thought she didn't have one either,” Eric said. “I thought she was evil.”  
  
“She is evil,” Jackie and Donna said together.  
  
Eric shook his head. “No, she isn't. She's bitchy, she's slutty, but she's not... I think Snow White's Evil Stepmother took her over somehow.”  
  
“Wait, what?” Donna said.   
  
“I saw the Stepmother's corpse in the swamp. I saw how Laurie got here. She was bored—”  
  
“Yup.” Michael nodded. “That's how these things usually start with her.”  
  
Eric continued and told them how the Evil Stepmother had offered Laurie all her power in exchange for finishing her work against Snow White's family. “But Laurie hates work,” he said. “She refused, but it was too late.”   
  
“So Laurie is basically dead?” Jackie said.  
  
“ _ No. _ ” Eric looked down. “She's still in there. I saw her, and I don't know how much she's actually responsible for.”  
  
“But how can you be sure?” Donna said. “I mean, she chose to come here... just like Hyde chose to fuck us over. Maybe once she got the feeling for it—for that witch's power—maybe she liked it.”  
  
“I know, okay? This whole thing is just so...” Eric clutched the sides of his head. He was crying again. “What am I gonna do? I can't kill her.”   
  
Donna ran her hand through his hair tenderly. “Of course you can't.”   
  
“No, I mean,  _ I can't. _ She took the only weapon I had, the one Snow White led me to.”   
  
“You let her have the comb?” Jackie shouted. Her voice reverberated against the cell's stone walls.  
  
“She stole it off me,” Eric said. “She plans on burning everyone at Fez's coronation. I think she's gonna kill them.”  
  
“Jackie,” Donna said, “did that son of bitch give you any clue, and hint at all about any of this?”   
  
Jackie gave the barest of shrugs. She was staring at the blue eye of Steven's ring. He had given her hints. She just hadn't wanted to hear them. They frightened her, just as his eyes in the chamber had frightened her. He couldn't save her this time.   
  
She had to find her own way out of the forest. 


	43. Hyde's Special Ingredient

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

  CHAPTER 43  
 **HYDE'S SPECIAL INGREDIENT**

Hyde was stirring a vat full of frothing violet liquid—and working up a good sweat while he was at it. The kitchens were freakin' hot, man, and all kinds of smells battled for dominance. Savory and sweet, fragrant and rancid. The cabinets were crammed with poisonous ingredients like hemlock and nightshade, death cap mushrooms, and even bottles of snake venom. And it didn't end there. Toxic powders from his world shared shelf space with those found only in the Nine Kingdoms: jars of strychnine and Elf curare, cyanide and Dwarf's Eyelash.  
  
This sure as hell wasn't Mrs. Forman's kitchen.  
  
A fat chef added a dash of salt to the vat while Hyde continued to stir. Pink bubbles swelled on the liquid's surface then burst. The Queen had wanted them to put a few special ingredients into the coronation's special drink, and none of them included Hyde's love.   
  
The chef bowed suddenly. Laurie— _ the Queen— _ had entered the kitchen. She was no longer wearing that scarlet number but a white dress that showed off far more of her skin. Hyde pulled the stirring spoon from the vat as she walked over to them. Then he bowed his head a little.  
  
"As you commanded, Majesty," the chef said, "the most poweful poison ever created." He snatched the spoon from Hyde and held it under the Queen's nose.   
  
She grimaced. "Smell's great."   
  
Hyde made sure to breathe only very shallow breaths. The stuff stank worse than a night full of Forman's farts, but the odor would fade once the liquid cooled.   
  
"Have you tasted it yet?" The Queen was looking directly at the chef.  
  
The chef blinked. "'Course not, Your Majesty."   
  
"Then how do you know it's the most powerful poison ever made?"  
  
"Yeah, man," Hyde said. "How do you know?"  
  
The chef glanced at him with wide, fearful eyes. Then he looked at the vat and, finally, at the Queen.  
  
"Well?" she said.  
  
The chef merely trembled, but Hyde smirked. The Queen sure knew how to burn people.   
  
"Try it!" she said.  
  
The chef's fat face was red and drenched with sweat, but he brought the spoon to his lips as if someone else were controling his hand. His tongue darted into the liquid. He swallowed a drop of it, and his head snapped back. Then he fell to the floor with a heavy thud.   
  
The Queen bent down and touched his neck. After a moment, she stood up again.  
  
"Ah, my hot little dirtbag." She ran a finger along Hyde's jawline. "You had me worried for a while."  
  
Hyde took her hand from his face and held it. "Yeah, I like to do that."  
  
"After tonight, scum like you will be very important." She led him away to an unbusy corner of the kitchen. "They're gonna be my secret police, and you," she slid her hand down his back and smacked his butt, "will be their chief."   
  
"Cool."  
  
The Queen smiled. "You can have the honor of serving the guests our special drink. Then you'll have the honor of serving me more privately." She patted his cheek and left.   
  
Hyde rolled a silver cart to the vat of violet liquid. Silver goblets and a silver punch bowl sat on top of the cart, and he started to ladel his noxious concoction into them. All those fairy tale freaks in the ballroom were going to get a big heapin' batch of Happily Ever After, all right.   
  
Cinderella was up there, still alive after two-hundred years, man, and she looked decent. Little Red Riding Hood's grandaughter was here, too, and a whole bunch of other people Hyde didn't care about. Even if he did, he'd burn 'em all the same. Nothing else mattered now but this burn.

***

Music reached the dungeon from the ballroom. It was too festive for Eric's mood. The coronation had begun, and that Dog Prince was probably hoofing it up with some descendent of Sleeping Beauty's. The Dog Prince. He was going to be crowned King instead of Fez, and then Laurie would have his kingdom.   
  
"Damn it!" Eric kicked the cell door, and the force of his kick sent him flying backward into Kelso.  
  
Kelso caught him. "You're not very good with doors either, huh?"   
  
"Damn it, I can't just sit here," Eric said. "I can't. I have to do something. I have to—damn, Hyde!"   
  
"Hey, guys, look at this." Donna was standing by a wooden beam than ran horizontally from one wall to the other. Someone had carved some words into it. "I saw this before. It's pretty out there."  
  
Eric walked over to her and examined the words more closely.

WILHELM GRIMM  
1805  
WENN SIE FLIEHEN WOLLEN  
MÜSSEN SIE DIE HEBEL DREHEN

"Grimm?" Eric said. "As in  _ Grimm _ Grimm?"   
  
"It's gotta be, right?" Donna said. "Those stories weren't made up. They're true." She tapped Grimm's name. "He was here two hundred years ago. Oh, God, Professor Bultmann will never believe this."   
  
Kelso pointed at the beam. "What are those words under his name?"  
  
"They're German." Jackie had joined them from her post at the stone block.  
  
"Can you read them?" Donna said.  
  
"No, I took French.  _ D'uh. _ "  
  
"Don't you mean  _ le d'uh _ ?" Kelso said, and Jackie swatted his shoulder.  
  
"I can speak German," a small voice squeaked.  
  
"So can I," another voice squeaked. "Cheese is  _ K _ _ ässe. _ "  
  
Eric peered up. Two mice were scurrying toward him on another horizontal beam.  
  
"Our great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather learnt it from Wilhelm Grimm himself," one mouse said.   
  
"Well, this is just great," Eric said dully. "German-speaking mice."  
  
Donna pushed him aside and traced her finger along the carved letters. "Okay, so what does this say here?"  
  
"Must you the handle turn," the second mouse squeaked, "to—"  
  
"No, the  _ lever _ turn," the first mouse said. "Handle is  _ Klinke. _ "  
  
The second mouse sighed. "Must you the lever turn if you wish to escape."   
  
Eric stared at the mice. "Wait, wait. Escape?"   
  
"Lever?" Donna said.   
  
Everyone scattered. They searched the walls, but they found no levers. Then Eric spotted iron rings dangling from the wooden beams.  
  
"The rings!" Eric said and spun one. Nothing happened. "Turn the rings! Try the other ones."  
  
They ran from ring-to-ring and spun them. Finally, one of the stone walls crackled. A square of four bricks sank backwards, and dust poured into the newly-made hole. It was a tunnel.  
  
Eric ducked down. "Come on, come on. Maybe we still have time."  
  
He crept inside the tunnel, and everyone followed behind. 


	44. The Royal Toast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

  CHAPTER 44  
 **THE ROYAL TOAST**

The tunnel let out into a stone corridor, and Eric opened the rusty gate at the end of it. He was happy for their freedom, but he didn't know what good it would do once they got to the ballroom. So much was stacked against them, and it was hard not to think about as everyone went into the next chamber. Swords and halberds dulled from age were lined up in racks. They'd entered an armory.  
  
"Take a weapon," Donna said. She grabbed a halberd. Kelso and Jackie took swords.   
  
"Yeah, Donna? We don't know how to fight," Eric said. "Put it back. You'll just get hurt."  
  
Donna shoved the halberd at him. "Take. A. Weapon. Eric."   
  
His lady had spoken. He wrapped his hands around the halberd and nearly toppled over. The thing was heavy.  
  
Donna picked another halberd for herself, and they all walked toward a spiral staircase. She'd always been so brave. He wanted to be worthy of that... and her.

***

Hyde hated wearing anything fancier than a T-shirt and jeans, but he'd put on the fruity getup Laurie had left for him: a black velvet suit with gold brocade. He hated ceremonies, too, but he'd watched as the Dog Prince passed two ceremonial tests in Fez's body. The ballroom was exactly the kind of place Jackie would've picked for a wedding. It was enormous with a marble floor, curtained balconies for spectators, and a domed glass ceiling. Freakin' ridiculous, man, and it made him doubly glad Jackie was stuck in a dungeon cell.  
  
Hyde especially hated dances, but it was midnight, and time had come for the Cinderella waltz. The two-hundred-year-old queen and the Dog Prince took to the floor while the other guests gathered around them. How Cinderella was dancing in those glass slippers of hers was beyond him, but she was doing it and well.   
  
The music was loud and lame, and it was Hyde's cue to start serving drinks for the Royal Toast. He wheeled his cart to the tables where the few guests not dancing sat. He handed goblets to kings and princesses and various stooges of The Man—The  _ Royal _ Man, in this case—and Hyde told them all not to drink until the toast. He'd have to hit the other guests after the dance. Then this party would really start.

***

Kelso was happy to have a weapon, but he wished it were his gun instead of a rusty sword. He'd already gotten a metal splinter from holding it. Jackie and Donna's glares back at him kept him from complaining, though. They were climbing up a tower with Eric in the lead. Music filtered down from the ballroom, and it was growing louder the higher they went.  
  
Bajillions of stairs later, Kelso's legs were mush. They'd reached the sixth or seventh landing when Eric finally stopped them. "This must be it," he said and pointed down a hallway. "The ballroom's gotta be here."  
  
The music was loud enough that Kelso recognized it was a waltz. People were probably dancing. Did that mean the Dog Prince had already been crowned?   
  
They went down the hallway. Shackles dangled from wooden beams, and weapons did, too—swords, clubs, and even a few shields. All sorts of junk cluttered the floor, like ladders and pewter dishes, and a net holding sacks of flour was suspended by a pulley. This hallway was being used as some kind of storage area.   
  
They reached a large metal-and-wood reinforced door. Donna turned the handle, but the door wouldn't budge. "It's not locked," she said. She was right. The door's hasp had no padlock. "Something's leaning against it."  
  
"We're running out of time," Eric said. "Push."  
  
Kelso, Donna, and Eric pushed while Jackie stood back. With one joint heave, the door sprang open. One of the Trolls tumbled forward and fell over a bunch of crates.   
  
"Suck an Elf!" Burly shouted. His two Troll siblings were in the room, too.  
  
"Oh, yeah?" Kelso said. "What does that even mean?"  
  
"It means shut the door!" Donna yanked the door closed.  
  
"Skin 'em! Skin 'em!" the Trolls shouted from inside the room.  
  
Kelso shoved his sword into the hasp, which had the effect of locking the door.  
  
"That's not gonna hold them long," Donna said.  
  
She was right again. The Trolls were slamming themselves against the door, and the sword bounced each time.  
  
"Let's go!" Eric led them further down the hallway and through a stone arch. They entered a narrow passageway where they found a small wooden door. "It's locked," Eric said. He backed up, as if he was gonna run at it, but Donna stopped him.  
  
She struck the door with her halberd, but the door was too thick and the axe blade too dull. Eric started to hack at the wood with her.   
  
"That's going to take too long," Kelso said. "You guys keep at it. I'm gonna go fight 'em off."  
  
He took a step toward the stone arch, and Jackie grabbed his arm. "Michael, no. You'll get killed."  
  
"It doesn't matter. Being a cop's trained me for that. You guys have to save Fez—save everyone, okay?"  
  
"At least take this." Jackie gave him her sword.   
  
"Thanks, Jackie." He ran to the stone arch. "If you guys get through, just keep going! Don't wait for me, okay? Just go!" He sounded braver than he felt, but he meant every word. So many people were in danger, and he was just one person _ —cool.  _ If he survived this, maybe he could use that line to get him some tail.  
  
If he didn't survive, at least his friends would tell his daughter her daddy died with courage. Yeah, that sounded good, too.  
  
Kelso made it to the end of the hallway. So had the Trolls. 

***

Hyde was standing at the back of the ballroom with his arms crossed and his foot tapping. Man, this night had dragged on long enough. Some old guy called the Lord Chancellor raised a jewel-encrusted crown over the Dog Prince's head and paused there. Hyde groaned inwardly. He wanted the dog to be crowned freakin' King already so the Royal Toast could start. And end...  _ everything.  
  
_ "If none questions his appointment," the Lord Chancellor said, "then I do solemnly—"  
  
"Wait!" Cinderella stood from her seat of honor. She walked to the dais where the Dog Prince sat on his throne. "I question him."   
  
"Woof!" the Dog Prince said then covered his mouth. So much like Fez, except that bark would've been a come on. He removed his hand and said, "Do you?"   
  
Cinderella narrowed her eyes. "Are you really Prince Fez, grandson of Snow White, the man who would be king?"   
  
The Dog Prince sputtered, and Hyde swallowed a laugh. It was a genius move on the Queen's part to switch Fez with a dog since they shared so much in common: panting, humping legs, eating things off the floor. But there were subtle difference between them, too. Fez always put things in terms of candy, and Doggy-boy did in terms of bones. Fez dug through girly mags, and the Dog Prince dug through dirt. If Cinderella had caught onto the Queen's scam, Hyde would definitely be impressed—but he didn't think she had. Everything tonight was about ceremony, man. Every stinkin' thing.  
  
The Dog Prince frowned with Fez's face. "No," he said. "I am not Prince Fez."  
  
The crowd of royal guests and attendants gasped, and the Dog Prince stood from his throne.  
  
"I am an imposter!"  
  
The crowd gasped a second time, and Hyde shook his head. What a bunch of maroons.  
  
"I'm not... I'm not a prince." Doggy-boy opened his arms in supplication. "I am... I am..." He looked to the glass ceiling, as if he were trying to remember something. "I am...  _ ordinary.  _ I will never be great like Snow White. Some are born to be great, but I am a pack animal. I am not a leader. I am a retriever," and to emphasize his point, the Dog Prince got on his knees.  
  
Hyde smirked. Yeah, the Queen had trained her dog well.  
  
"I do not want the job. I will not take the job." The Dog Prince looked like he was about to cry. "I am not worthy."   
  
Cinderella stepped in front of him with her hands on her hips, and her eyes seemed to scrutinize every inch of him. Then she turned to the awestruck guests.  
  
"He passed the third test," she said. "He has shown humility."   
  
The crowd cheered in relief, and the Lord Chancellor said, "He has passed the three tests. Now let him be crowned."   
  
Hyde glanced up at a curtained balcony. Somewhere the Queen was watching, and she had to be smiling. 

***

"Victory for the Troll Nation!"   
  
The three Trolls were chasing Kelso back to the stone arch, but Kelso was faster. He hid behind a wooden beam, by the pulley holding up the sacks of flour.   
  
"Where'd he go?" Bluebell said. The other two just growled.  
  
"Hey!" Kelso stepped out from behind the beam. The Trolls glared at him, but they should've been looking up. He whipped out his sword and sliced the rope attached to the pulley.  
  
Sacks of flour slammed into the Trolls from the ceiling. The three of them fell to the ground in a heap, all tangled up in the net that dropped with the flour.  
  
Kelso smiled. Looked like he was faster  _ and  _ smarter than them.   
  
The grunting sounds of effort reached him through the arch. He peered back at the passageway. Eric and Donna had chopped a hole, no bigger than Jackie's fist, into the door. They needed more time.  
  
Kelso grabbed a club off the beam and waited. Burly disentangled himself first. He growled, bearing his uggo fangs.  
  
"Suck an Elf!"  
  
"Oh, yeah?" Kelso whacked him in the head. "Suck a club!"  
  
Burly fell backward. He didn't get up.  
  
Kelso looked at the door again. The hole was bigger, but not big enough. Eric, Donna, and Jackie still needed time.   
  
He picked up a shield, and Blabberwort and Bluebell ran at him. Blabberwort stabbed her short sword at his chest, but he deflected it with the shield and smashed her jaw. She crashed into the wooden beam.  
  
Two down.  
  
Only the shortest Troll was left. From Kelso's experience with short people, he knew they could be the most violent. Bluebell was no exception. He jumped on Kelso's back, but Kelso's police training kicked in. He flipped the Troll onto the floor and used the beam for cover.   
  
Bluebell apparently had the same idea. He got up and hid behind the other side of the beam.  
  
Kelso spared a glance through the arch. The door was open. His friends were gone.   
  
A sharp pain bit into Kelso's arm. Bluebell had thrust his dagger into it. Kelso cried out, but he also grasped the Troll's wrist and locked it in one of the beam's shackles.   
  
Bluebell swung his dagger wildly. Even chained to the beam, he was dangerous. Kelso backed off, but the Troll would hack himself free if Kelso just left him there.  
  
Kelso picked up a pewter dish and whammed Bluebell in the face. The force of the blow sent the Troll reeling to the floor. He groaned then passed out.  
  
Kelso raised his arms in victory, "OW!" then pulled his left one down. Despite the pain of his wound, he felt great. He'd just kicked three Troll asses—and protected his friends in the process. Next time Hyde tried to bust up his eye, Kelso might actually be able to take him.   
  
Shit.  _ Hyde. _ _ _ Kelso might actually have to take him.   
  
"Eric, Donna, Jackie!" he shouted and bolted through the door. 

***

Eric, Donna, and Jackie emerged from a short passageway into a curtained balcony. They were standing above the ballroom. Eric had miscalculated the floors by one.   
  
"King Fez! King Fez!" a crowd cheered below them. "Happily ever after! Happily ever after!"  
  
Eric peeked from behind the gold curtain. Fez—the Dog Prince in Fez's body—sat in a throne. Two attendants were placing a gold crown on his head.  
  
"King Fez! King Fez!" the crowd continued to cheer. "Happily ever after! Happily ever after!"  
  
"Donna," Eric said, "do you think—"  
  
A hand pressed over his mouth.  
  
"You only get to watch," the Huntsman whispered by his ear.  
  
Eric thrashed around, but the Huntsman's grip was too solid. He wanted to look behind him. What had the Huntsman done with Donna and Jackie? He got his answer in a moment. A dark haired man with flashing orange eyes brought Donna and Jackie to the other end of the curtain. He was holding them both at the mouth same as the Huntsman did Eric. This had to be the Wolf Jackie and Kelso encountered in Point Place, and he had to be impossibly strong. Neither Donna or Jackie seemed able to move.   
  
Below them, the Dog Prince now stood. The crown was on his head, and he held a jeweled staff and orb in his hands. He looked as if he were about to address the crowd, but Hyde intercepted him.  
  
"Time for the Royal Toast, man—Your Highness." Hyde was carrying a silver tray with three silver goblets. He bowed his head, but Eric saw the grin on his face all the same. He'd worn the same one at Grandma Forman's funeral, then at her grave, and countless other times when he was up to something for his own amusement, especially when it was at the expense of others.  
  
Eric struggled harder to get free, but the Huntsman's grasp could not be broken. The Dog Prince took a goblet and sniffed its contents. Then he stuck his tongue out like the dog he was and panted.  
  
"The Royal Toast!" someone announced, and a dog whimpered nearby.  
  
_ Fez.  _ He was on the next balcony over and muzzled. Laurie was holding his chain leash tight.  
  
"To everlasting peace," the Dog Prince raised his goblet and walked into the crowd, "and all the bones we can gnaw!"   
  
The coronation guests, the royal attendants, and everyone else in the room but Hyde lifted their goblets. He was still grinning.  
  
Eric understood why. Hyde was about to pull off the biggest burn of his life, on behalf of Laurie. Those goblets... Snow White had said Laurie would strike through poison. Eric chomped at the Huntsman's hand, but his teeth merely grazed skin. Eric had to warn everyone. He had to—"  
  
"To everlasting peace and all the bones we can gnaw!" the crowd repeated.   
  
Everyone chugged down what was in the goblets. Eric strained against the Huntsman's grip but gave up once the Dog Prince took his last swallow.  
  
"I think I did really well," the Dog Prince said with Fez's voice. Then his face went blank, and he crumpled to the floor.  
  
"No!" Eric shouted into the Huntsman's hand.   
  
People all around the ballroom toppled to the floor, over chairs and tables. Those who didn't immediately collapse coughed for a moment, convulsed, then collapsed.   
  
"Poison!" a woman shouted before she fell.  
  
Hyde stood among the fallen and the falling. Everyone around him was dying—or dead already—but his face showed nothing but apathy. Eric couldn't look at him anymore. The man he once considered a brother had just murdered over two hundred people and didn't seem to give a damn.  
  
Donna let out a muffled yell, and Eric met her eyes. They had tears in them. Jackie's though, didn't. She had to be terrified.  
  
"Anyone for seconds?" Laurie said.   
  
She descended a set of marble stairs to the ballroom floor, which was littered with bodies. Hyde alone turned to face her. He was the only one left who could.  
  
"No?" Laurie smirked and walked deeper into the ballroom.  
  
The Huntsman and the Wolf pulled Eric, Donna, and Jackie down another set of stairs. They reached the ballroom floor and passed by Hyde, who looked straight at each of them. His eyes were as unreadable as stone. Laurie must have poisoned his heart somehow, same as the Evil Stepmother had poisoned hers.   
  
The Huntsman took out his crossbow. It was already loaded with a bolt, and he maneuvered Eric among the dead bodies. The Wolf kept Donna and Jackie further back. His hands no longer covered their mouths, but neither of them said a word.  
  
"You really are persistent, 'little brother,'" Laurie said. She stood only a few feet away from him.   
  
"Are you going to kill us, too?" Eric said, and the Huntsman shoved him in front of her.   
  
"I was gonna let you go," she said. "I don't know why."  
  
Eric took a step forward. "You know why."  
  
"Go. All of you," Laurie said. She sounded scared. "Get out while you can."   
  
The Wolf had let go of Donna and Jackie completely. They really could go, but Eric couldn't. Not while Kelso was still in the castle somewhere. Not while Eric still had a chance to reach his sister and, maybe, Hyde.   
  
Eric crossed his arms. "No."  
  
"Your mother should've thrown herself down a flight of stairs when she was pregnant with you!" Laurie shouted.  
  
"Is that the best burn you can come up with?" Eric said. " _ Our _ mother should've kept the doctor from cutting your tail off at birth. That way, you and those dogs you like to fuck would have even more in common."  
  
Laurie sneered. "And I'm sure your daddy was real proud when his son turned out to have a vagina."   
  
"Again with the lame burn." Eric tsked. "Laurie, Laurie. Laurie. Being Queen's dulled your brain even worse than when you were just a giant whore. You should cut out your tongue now 'cause it's useless."   
  
"Your  _ whole life _ is useless. Daddy used to say, 'What's the point in having a son when all he does is cry? Sometimes I just want to poke out his eyes. Then he'd really have something to cry abo...'" Laurie looked to the glass dome ceiling as if she were confused.   
  
Eric was reaching her.  
  
"Oh, yeah? Well, Mom used to say she wished she could exchange you for the neighbor's cat 'cause then she'd have less pussy to worry about."  
  
"Eric!" Donna shouted.   
  
_ Damn it.  _ She didn't understand what he was trying to do. Eric waved at her to shut up.   
  
Too late. Laurie pursed her lips in a fake pout. "Is this your girlfriend?" She nodded to the Huntsman, who grabbed Donna by the elbow.  
  
"No! She's the skank trying to steal Eric away from  _ me _ ," Jackie said.   
  
"What?" Eric and Donna said together.  
  
"Ooh, an intrigue." Laurie gestured to the Huntsman, who brought both Donna and Jackie forward. "Tell me more... so I know which one of you to kill in front of 'little brother' first."  
  
"It's me!" Jackie said.   
  
All color drained from Donna's cheeks. "Jackie—!"  
  
"Shut up, Bigfoot!" Jackie looped her arms around one of Eric's, but he was too stunned to do anything. He didn't know if she was trying to protect Donna, or if she'd caught onto his strategy and was trying it her own way.   
  
"You see," Jackie said, "Eric and I are deeply, truly in love, and that redheaded moose keeps sticking her boobs in his face and forcing her tongue into his mouth and—"  
  
"I bet he likes it, too." Laurie smiled, but the expression faded. She glanced back at Hyde, and the smile reappeared before turning into a full-force grin. "You're not in love with 'little brother,'" she said to Jackie. "You're in love with Hyde."  
  
Jackie shrugged. "Whatever."  
  
"Oh, I can see it in your face. I took him, Jackie, every part of him away from you." Laurie's eyes glazed over with the same dark light Eric had seen in his vision, when he was at the Evil Stepmother's tomb. "Any love he had, it's mine. Any desire he had, mine. I like taking from you, Jackie. It's so damn easy."  
  
Jackie growled and struck Laurie's face with an open fist. Laurie stumbled back and tripped over a dead body.   
  
"You bitch!" Jackie said. "You don't know love. You don't know anything."  
  
Laurie stood up and rubbed her cheek. "Kill her!" she said to the Huntsman. "Kill all of them. Now, or I'll do it myself."  
  
The Huntsman aimed his crossbow at Jackie. His finger closed on the trigger.   
  
Hyde lunged at him, and they both slammed onto a banquet table. The crossbow bolt sped toward the ceiling. It crashed into the glass dome and kept going.   
  
"Steven!" Jackie cried. He'd saved her life, and Eric stared at him.   
  
"Forman!" Hyde shouted and socked the Huntsman in the jaw. "I took care of mine. Take care of yours!"   
  
Eric turned around. The Wolf had dragged Donna under a staircase and thrown her against the wall. She was unconscious.   
  
"Dinner time!" the Wolf said and cornered her still body. With a growl he shifted into a real wolf, fur and fangs.   
  
"Donna!" Eric yelled and shot forward.  
  
He never reached her. Laurie's hands clamped around his throat. He pulled on her wrists, but she must have been strengthened by the Evil Stepmother's magic because they didn't budge. Her fingers dug into his neck and strangled him. He struggled to breathe. The room was dimming...

***

Donna was defenseless. The wolf was snarling at her unmoving body.   
  
Jackie hurled a goblet at him, a plate, a shoe. "Over here, you stupid mutt!" But he ignored her.   
  
His jaws snapped inches from Donna's face. He was about to pounce.  
  
"Victory for the Kelso Nation!"   
  
Michael leapt off the staircase and stabbed the wolf's tail with his sword. The wolf yelped in pain. One of Michael's arms was bent against his chest and bleeding, but otherwise he seemed okay. He chased the wolf up to the balcony, and they both disappeared behind the gold curtain.  
  
Jackie went to Donna's side. She'd started to regain consciousness. She was going to be all right.   
  
Steven wasn't. The Huntsman had him pinned to the banquet table. Steven had no purchase to wrest himself free, and the Huntsman's knife was at his throat.   
  
"Steven!"   
  
Jackie ran for him, but something crackled above her. The crossbow bolt had fallen through the glass dome again. She kept running, but the bolt hit its mark before she reached the table.  
  
The bolt's feathered end jutted from the Huntsman's back. The rest of it was deep inside his body, had to be through his shivreled, black heart.  
  
Steven grunted. He was trapped underneath the Huntsman's corpse.   
  
"Steven—"  
  
"Forman," he choked out.   
  
Jackie turned. Laurie had Eric by the throat. His knees were buckling. His eyes were barely open...

***

Silver sparkles floated in the darkness surrounding Eric's skull. His breath was gone, his strength exhausted. Laurie had him.  
  
Then someone's faint screams cut through the fog in his mind. Jackie? He couldn't tell what she was saying. _No! Oh, no!_ it sounded like... _Gnome! Use the damn—_  
  
The silver sparkles coalesced into the comb. Eric plucked it from Laurie's hair—seemed he had some strength left after all—and scraped her neck. The dagger-like teeth cut into her skin. Blood oozed from the scratches.  
  
Laurie's hands flew from Eric's throat to her own neck.   
  
Eric coughed violently. The comb dropped from his fingers onto the ballroom floor.  
  
Laurie stared at her blood-smeared hands. "You cut me."   
  
"I'm sorry." Eric covered his mouth. "Oh, God. Laurie—"   
  
She was smiling at him without any ridicule in her eyes.   
  
"Laurie..."   
  
She turned away from him and walked a few steps. Then she sank to her knees.  
  
"Laurie!"   
  
Her body listed. It fell among the dead on the floor.  
  
"Oh, God!" Eric rushed to her, grabbed the collar of her gown. "Don't die! You can't die! Come on, you've gotta know who you are!"   
  
"Too late, bro." Her eyes were open and free of murk. The Evil Stepmother's hold on her was gone. "Seriously, Eric, don't cry. You're such a girl." Her voice was soft and weak. "I really screwed myself."  
  
Her body shuddered. Her lids drooped closed.  
  
"No!" Eric shook her, but she didn't wake up. He shook her again. Again.  
  
"Forman." Hyde's hand clasped his shoulder. "She's done."  
  
"She can't—no! Don't you understand?" He twisted around to look at Hyde. His lip was bloody, his cheek bruised, and his expression was one of sadness.   
  
Eric slumped over Laurie's body. Her skin was still warm, but there was no life in it.  
  
Hyde was right.  
  
Eric buried his face in her hair and wept. 

***

"Looks like I missed one helluva party."  
  
Michael was on the balcony. Jackie thanked God he was okay, but she wasn't so sure about Eric. He couldn't seem to let go of Laurie's body. Donna was fully conscious now, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.   
  
"Oh, man, are all these people...?" Michael climbed down the stairs and stood next to Jackie. "Who's Eric crying over?"   
  
"Laurie," Jackie said.  
  
Michael frowned. "She's not... oh. Oh, no, Eric, I'm sorry."  
  
Jackie peered behind her. Steven was keeping his distance. She wanted to run to him, but all the bodies on the floor kept her away. She tried to catch his gaze and failed. He was too busy looking at his watch.   
Then someone groaned—with Fez's voice. A moment later, the Dog Prince pushed himself off the floor.   
"I think I've drunk too much champagne," he said and groaned again.  
  
On the dais, one of the royal attendants sat up. "What's happening?" he said amid the mumblings of people waking around him. "What's going on?"  
  
The groggy commotion on the dais spread throughout the ballroom. Everyone groaned as if they were rousing from a bout of drunken partying.  
  
Eric finally pulled himself from Laurie's body and glanced around the room. "Why aren't you all dead?"  
  
Steven suddenly appeared by Eric's side. He was holding a dog muzzle in one hand and a chain in the other, connected to Fez.  
  
"I thought you poisoned everyone," Eric said.  
  
"Nope. Troll dust" Steven took the collar off Fez's neck. "Swapped the poison for some Troll dust. Had to make it look like the real thing." He gestured to the hungover guests, who were rubbing their heads and wincing at the chandelier light. "Biggest burn I ever pulled off, man."  
  
"I knew it!" Jackie let tears form for the first time this night. "Oh, Steven, I knew you were faking!"   
  
Eric, Donna, and Michael all glared at her. "You did?" they said.   
  
"How?" Donna said, but Jackie was too overcome with joy to answer.  
  
Steven scratched the back of his head and cleared his throat. "Sorry I had to scam all of you like that." Then he patted Fez. "Go get him, Fezzy."  
  
Fez darted between sluggish coronation guests and jumped into the waiting, open arms of the Dog Prince. A cloud of light burst at the Dog Prince's feet. Then it turned into a mist of stars, obscuring him and Fez from view. An explosion of light split dog and man apart seconds later.  
  
Fez stared at his human hands, touched his human face. "I am back," he said. "I'm back!"  
  
The dog barked and wagged its tail vigorously.  
  
Jackie felt an arm slide around her waist and a warm kiss on top of her head. Steven was back, too.  
  
The guests and attendants roared with cheers and applause for their restored Prince. Michael dashed to Fez's side and lifted him in a bear hug.  
  
"Welcome back, buddy!"   
  
Everyone was smiling except for Eric. He shut is eyes and bent over Laurie's body again.  
  
Jackie stepped forward, but Steven held her back and shook his head. She had to let Eric mourn, his eyes told her.  
  
Her breath came out in staccato puffs. More tears stung her cheeks. She pulled Steven's other arm around her and hid her face in his velvet jacket. She was grieving, too. Not for Laurie. For Eric.


	45. Undistorted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 3:** “The Best of Times” (C) 1995 Styx and A &M Records; “Lady” (C) 2004 A&M Records.

CHAPTER 45  
** UNDISTORTED **

Hyde awoke in one of the castle's guest rooms, on the most comfortable bed he'd ever slept in. It even beat out the mother kangaroo Jackie had set up for him once on his cot back home. He rolled onto his side and opened his eyes. The room was bright with sunlight, but the brightest part of it was sitting on a banquette.   
  
Jackie. She was looking outside the window, and he watched her silently for a while. They hadn't said much to each other after they left the ballroom last night. She'd fallen asleep in his arms almost immediately. But now he felt the need to hear her voice and— _ man, _ last night must have been harder on him that he thought.   
  
"Morning," he said.  
  
Jackie turned from the window. "Hey, you're awake." She was wearing a white sleeping gown, courtesy of Fez's attendants, and sunlight lit it from behind. He could see her body through it, but his focus was drawn to her lips, her eyes. She was smiling.   
  
"Jackie..." He patted the sheets next to him.   
  
She stood up and moved to the bed. "Your face looks like hell."   
  
"Thanks."  
  
Jackie leaned down and kissed him gently. "You're still beautiful," she said.   
  
"Yeah..." He ran his thumb softly along her jawline. She was always freakin' beautiful, whether covered in dirt or buried in thirty-feet of hair or hating his guts, but he hadn't looked in a mirror since before the coronation. His cheek was tender, definitely black or purple from a bruise. His lip stung like it had been split. The Huntsman had busted him up pretty bad, but the Huntsman was dead—so even trade.  
  
"And even though you're not saying it," Jackie said, I know you think I'm beautiful, too. Your eyes have a big mouth."   
  
"Only with you." He played with the fringe of her sleeve but kept his gaze on her face. "Is that how you figured I was faking last night?"   
  
She eased herself onto the pillows next to him and draped her arm over his chest. "Steven, you've always been able to fake not caring about me. But you don't know how to fake love."   
  
"The Queen seemed pretty convinced."  
  
Jackie shot up. "Wait, did you do more than kiss her?"   
  
"Hell, no. I gargled with 100-proof whiskey afterwards 'cause I couldn't find any bleach."   
  
"Thank God." Jackie sank back down. She lay her head in the crook of shoulder. "Of course you tricked her," she said after awhile. "Laurie had never known true love."  
  
"Neither did the Queen."   
  
Jackie nodded as if she understood, and Hyde was glad because he didn't want to talk about it any more than he had to. Laurie had gotten herself into a royally fucked-up mess and paid the price for it—and screwed Forman in the process.  
  
"She recognized it in me," Jackie said a moment later. "When I tried to protect Donna. Laurie knew I loved you."  
  
"Yeah..." His body tensed in preparation. He was about to earn himself a boatload of pinches. "You almost blew the whole thing."  
  
"I know."  
  
His body relaxed a little. "You know?"   
  
"I was trying to be Zen like you, but she touched the tiny drop of doubt I had that you didn't..." She sighed. "Steven, it's just been so—"  
  
"It's cool," Hyde said. "I get it." He sat up with her. His lip throbbed painfully from all the talking, but he kissed her long and deep.   
  
"Any doubt left?" he said afterwards. His hand was cradling her cheek.   
  
Jackie's fingers curled around his wrist, and her thumb brushed his palm.   
  
She was still wearing his ring. 

***

Donna's face was the first sight Eric saw when he opened his eyes. She was leaning over him, and he wasn't quite sure where he was—except for the fact that he was in a bed.   
  
"Hey," Donna said. "You've been asleep for almost two days."  
  
"I don't think I knew how tired I was." Eric yawned and scratched his head.   
  
And then he remembered.  
  
The room was awash in sunlight, but it might as well have been shrouded in darkness. He wished he could stop breathing. He didn't want to feel, and yet his heart still beat.   
  
He stared at the ceiling. "I killed her."   
  
"Eric," Donna stroked his hair, "it's not your fault. You had no choice."  
  
"Oh, my God. Donna, what am I going to tell my parents?"  
  
"You don't have to think about that right now."   
  
Eric turned on his side. He didn't want to think about anything. Donna kissed his neck and then his shoulder. He reached for her hand and brought her arm around him.   
  
"You should go say goodbye to her," Donna said.  
  
"I can't," he said. "I can't do it."   
  
He pushed himself out of bed and went to find a bathroom, alone. 

***

The ballroom appeared as though the events of two days ago never occurred. Even the glass ceiling had been fixed. Eric was surrounded by his friends, and they were all surrounded by the same guests from the coronation. Everyone but him seemed to be in good spirits. Hyde's arm was draped around Jackie's shoulders, and his face had healed up a bit. Kelso was playing with the dog-formerly-known-as-Fez. And Donna had her arm around Eric's waist.   
  
She looked incredible in the burgundy dress Fez's people had given her to wear, and Eric felt his mood lift every time he looked at her. He tried to concentrate on that, on the fact his friends were all alive and well, but the image of Laurie's body lingered in his mind. He still saw her lying on the ballroom's marble floor, motionless, despite that her body had been moved to the castle's mausoleum.   
  
"Lords and Ladies, girls and boys," someone announced amid a fanfare of trumpets, "let's hear it for King Fez!"   
  
The entire ballroom filled with applause as Fez walked across the floor and stepped onto the dais. He actually looked like a king in his white military-style suit, gold sash, and epaulets. But more than that, his manner was different. He seemed far more self-assured and confident. Eric was glad to see it.  
  
"I love you, Fez!" Kelso shouted.   
  
"I love you the most!" Fez shouted back. Then he addressed the crowd. "And now, my people, for the greatest bravery imaginable, for courage in the face of so much horrible danger, I award my wonderful friends the highest medals—and best candy—in my kingdom."   
  
One of his royal attendants opened a chest. Displayed inside were gold and bejeweled medals alongside chocolate truffles and rainbow-swirled lollipops. The crowd applauded.  
  
Fez gestured to Kelso. "First, the best friend a dog or king could have, Michael Kelso."  
  
Hyde high-fived Kelso's left hand, and Kelso winced in pain. The stab wound he'd gotten from the Troll still clearly bothered him. Nonetheless, Kelso hopped onto the dais with a wide grin on his face.   
  
"People, look upon my bestest buddy," Fez said. "No longer is he a doofus who tries to put out a fire by setting a bigger one."   
  
Kelso blushed. "Aw, thanks, Fez."   
  
"No longer is he a man-pretty but useless whore who would rather run than fight."   
  
"Uh... thank you?" Kelso said.  
  
"No longer is he urged on by only horniness and greed."  
  
"Fez, just give me the medal."   
  
"He is heroically transformed." Fez pinned a medal on the lapel of Kelso's suit and handed him a swirly lollipop. "What braver, sexier man could exist than Kelso the Valiant?"   
  
Kelso took a bow. The crowd applauded him, but Eric and his friends clapped the loudest. Kelso really had matured throughout this whole ordeal. He even got off the dais without hamming it up and being forced down.   
  
"For this long-suffering dog," Fez said, and an attendant brought the chocolate lab onto the dais, "my arts-and-craftsmen have made a special collar medal. This mixed-up mutt will live in a golden doghouse next to his very own mountain of bones. And he will have an endless supply of bitches."   
  
The crowd laughed at that. Fez crouched to put the medal around the dog's neck, but then he turned to an attendant.   
  
"Ai... maybe it is better if I don't touch him." He gave the medal to the attendant. "You never know what could happen."  
  
The crowd laughed again, and Kelso said, "You'd turn back into a dog!"   
  
"Thank you, Kelso the Obvious," Donna said.  
  
The attendant slipped the collar medal around the dog's neck and patted its head.  
  
"As for Donna and Jackie," Fez said, and both of them stepped onto the dais, "the Nine Kingdoms have not seen such beauty and hotness in two-hundred years. Beauty in the face, yes. Hotness in the body—but these sexy women have also proved their strength over and over," Fez pinned a medal on each of their dresses without trying to cop a feel, "and that is what makes them both the fairest in all the kingdoms." He handed them a chocolate truffle each.   
  
The crowd cheered. Eric, Kelso, and even Hyde whistled.   
  
Donna and Jackie both kissed Fez on the cheek. Then Donna stepped down, but Fez held Jackie back. "You might want to stay around for this next one, eh?" He waggled his eyebrows.  
  
" _ Eww,  _ don't do that," Jackie said. "It's creepy."  
  
Fez regained his composure. "Sorry. Please stay."   
  
Jackie shrugged and stood back by the throne.  
  
Donna returned to Eric's side. "I got a medal," she said cheerfully. "Isn't it shiny? I feel so royal."   
  
Eric smiled for the first time since... well, since he could really remember. That was his girl.  
  
"Hyde." Fez motioned to the dais.   
  
Hyde didn't budge from the ballroom floor. "I'm cool, man."  
  
Donna and Kelso shoved him up the three stairs to Fez. Hyde stood there in the fancy suit Jackie must have "encouraged" him to wear. His arms were dangling limply at his sides. He looked anything but comfortable.  
  
"For Steven Hyde," Fez said, "I have no medal."   
  
The crowd huffed in shock, and Jackie shouted, "What?"   
  
"Great," Hyde said. His expression was impassive, and he stepped off the dais.  
  
Eric peered at Donna, who seemed just as confused as he was.  
  
"His nobility far outshines any medal I could ever give him. Instead," Fez pulled a small velvet box from his pocket, "I have for him something that belonged to my grandfather, one of the noblest men in the Nine Kingdoms." He opened the box. Inside was a gold ring set with an azure-colored diamond. "He gave this to Snow White when he asked for her hand in marriage."  
  
"Thanks, man, but I'm not marrying you," Hyde said.  
  
"I'm not—just get back up here, fool!" Fez shouted.  
  
Hyde climbed back onto the dais. "Is the diamond stolen?"   
  
"Straight from a dragon's hoard."  
  
"Nice." Hyde took the ring from Fez. "Hey, Jackie—"  
  
"Yes!" Jackie charged him and stopped just shy of collision. She shoved her left hand in his face.  
  
"'Yes,' what?" He pushed her hand down but didn't let go of it. "Your dress strap's falling down."  
  
"What?" She glanced at her shoulder, but her straps were fine.  
  
Hyde chuckled. "Man, you really do trust me." He was still holding her left hand, but Jackie glared at him. "Yeah, so..." he met her glare, "it ain't gonna be a fairy tale."   
  
"I don't want a fairy tale, Steven. I just want it to be real."  
  
"This is as real as it gets, doll." Hyde pulled his eyeball ring off her thumb and put it back on his pinky. "You got me for today... and I'm free tomorrow, so you can have me then, too. Oh, yeah—and until I'm dead."   
  
"Steven," Jackie's right hand covered her heart, "that's all I want."   
  
"Good 'cause that's all I can give you. Oh, and this." He placed the diamond ring at the tip of her ring finger.  
  
"Are you proposing?" she said.  
  
"Looks like I am."  
  
Jackie grinned and shoved her finger into the ring. "Looks like I just said yes."  
  
"Cool."   
  
To the cheers of the ballroom, Hyde kissed her, and it seemed like it would be a brief one, but Jackie didn't let him pull away. She pressed her mouth deeply against his, and then Eric saw tongue, and that was all he saw because he shut his eyes.  
  
"Good day, you two," he heard Fez say.   
  
"But, Fez," Jackie pouted, and Eric opened his eyes.  
  
"I said 'good day'!" Fez pushed both Jackie and Hyde onto the dais stairs.   
  
"'Til death do you part, huh?" Eric whispered when Hyde returned to the ballroom floor.   
  
"He's marrying Jackie," Kelso said. "That shouldn't take too long—OW!"   
  
Jackie had kicked his shin at the same time Hyde frogged him.  
  
"Our first joint assault," Hyde said and ruffled Jackie's short hair, which she clearly didn't appreciate. Then he pulled her close, which she did seem to appreciate. "Being engaged's already paying off."  
  
"As for Eric," Fez's voice grew soft, and Eric joined him on the dais, "how can I ever reward you for what you have done and what you have lost?"  
  
An attendant brought Fez a dried, blackened rose in a miniature glass coffin.   
  
"This flower was given to me by Show White when I was seven-years-old on the day she left our castle forever. She said that one day, I would meet her again, though she would never return. I understand her words now."  
  
Eric stared at the rose. Then he looked at Fez. If it were any other woman Eric were being associated with, he would've kicked his ass. But he was honored, truly honored that Fez believed he saw Snow White in him. 

***

After the ceremony, royal attendants set up banquet tables for a huge feast. Eric, though, had something more important to do than eat. He found his way to the mausoleum.   
  
The place reminded him of a church with its stained glass windows and stone walls. His sister's body was lying in an open glass coffin. She didn't look dead, simply asleep.   
  
Eric put the dried rose Fez had given him on top of Laurie's chest. Then he did something he'd never do if she were alive. He kissed her forehead.  
  
"When I was a kid," he crouched low and spoke close to Laurie's unmoving face, "a  _ really  _ young kid, I used to look up to you. You'd ride your bike down Wedge Hill—which, I swear, has the steepest incline of all the bikeable hills in Wisconsin—without holding onto the handlebars. And I thought, 'Man, this is why she's Red's favorite.' You never seemed afraid of anything."  
  
Eric shut his eyes. When he opened them again, his vision was blurry with tears. "I always wanted to be more like you, Laurie... minus the whoring around part."  
  
He stood up, and a shaky breath left his body. The dried rose had blossomed on Laurie's chest, red and full of life. 

***

By the time Eric returned to the ballroom, the feast had started. All sorts of food and candy covered the tables. Roast chicken and curried rice, pizza and fried potatoes, huge bars of chocolate and bowls of colorful gum drops.  
  
"Eric!" Donna waved from a table with all their friends. "Over here!"   
  
He went to her and sat down. Kelso was sitting next to Fez. They were tossing bits of fried potato into each other's mouths, and Hyde was concentrating on piling his plate with chicken legs while Jackie concentrated on her engagement ring.   
  
"What do you want to eat?" Donna said to Eric. "The King's had every food known to man prepared."  
  
"I have not," Kelso said.  
  
"Not you.  _ Fez, _ " Donna said. "He likes it when we call him 'King'." Then she whispered in Eric's ear, "He said it makes him feel sexy, but I told him I'd only do it for today."   
  
"Hey, Forman, you gotta eat something, man," Hyde said and ripped into a chicken leg.  
  
"Okay..." Eric scanned the table, "I'll have some fish."  
  
Hyde threw a carrot at him. "Lame."  
  
"Waiter!" Fez shouted. "Bring fresh fish immediately."   
  
Eric looked at him. "But, Fez, there's fish already on the table."  
  
"I said 'fresh fish'!" Fez clapped once.  
  
A waiter presented Eric with a whole, cooked trout on a platter. Eric rubbed his stomach although he wasn't all that hungry. " _ Mmm... _ "   
  
"Eric, are you okay?" Donna said.   
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Really."   
  
Eric stuck his fork into the trout and tore out a big white chunk. He brought the forkful to his mouth.   
  
_ The best of times are when I'm alone with you.  
Some rain, some shine. We'll make this a world for two...  
  
_ Eric froze and stared at the fish. Inside the hole he'd made was a pearl ring. It was singing.  
  
_ Our memories of yesterday will last a lifetime.   
We'll take the best, forget the rest.   
And someday we'll find these are the best of times... _   
  
"Oh, my God." Eric pulled the ring from the fish. "That's my engagement ring. A singing ring never fails to get his lady. It's destiny. It has to be."   
  
"Is that Styx?" Kelso said.  
  
Eric took Donna's hand. "Lady, when you're with me I'm smiling," he sang along with the ring.  
  
"Eric..." Donna started to blush.  
  
"Give me all your love," Eric continued to sing. "Your hands build me up when I'm sinking. Just marry me, and my troubles will all fade."  
  
"They won't," Donna said, "but I'll face them with you."   
  
"Does that mean...?"  
  
She leaned in and kissed him. "Of course I'll marry you."  
  
Eric really was smiling, so much so his cheeks hurt. He slid the ring onto Donna's finger, and—in this moment—his troubles really did fade.   
  
"Steven, if you'd gotten me a ring like that, I would've said no," Jackie said.  
  
"Crap. I had a way out? Well, there's still the Trailer Exit Strategy."  
  
Jackie rubbed Hyde's arm and spoke sweetly. "Only if your dead body's in it, baby."  
  
"Yes, dear."   
  
"Donna," Eric said, "that reminds me... we're not living in a trailer either."   
  
Donna laughed. "No. We're not."  
  
Eric found himself laughing, too. Whatever happened tomorrow, it would be all right. He had his friends, and he had his lady. The future would have to take care of itself. 

***

Steven slid the switch of the Traveling mirror to the "on" position. Light burst from the glass then faded to reveal Mount Hump Park. Jackie didn't see home there, though. Home was in this chamber where the Queen had kept her mirrors. It was Steven and Donna and Michael—and even Eric and Fez.  
  
Michael gave Fez a hug. "I'll be back in a week or so. Gotta see my daughter first."  
  
"Oh, Kelso, you will make a fine Captain of the Guard," Fez said.  
  
"Yeah, the announcement already got me a quickie with a hot Elf." Michael patted Fez's back one last time then him let go. "Man, those chicks know some things."   
  
"Yes," Fez said, "and hopefully I will learn them one day."  
  
"You're King now, Fez," Michael said. "You'll be getting wing left and right." A moment later, he shouted, "Victory for the Kelso Nation!" and leapt into the mirror.  
  
Donna and Eric embraced Fez together. "I can't believe you pardoned the Trolls," Donna said.  
  
"The Troll Kingdom doesn't have a leader," Eric said. "Who else is going to restore the monarchy?"  
  
"But they—"  
  
"Donna, Eric," Fez said and pulled away from them, "do not fight. Everyone deserves another chance. The Trolls had a terrible upbringing, much like Hyde. Hopefully they will do better than their father did, much like Hyde."   
  
"Thanks, man," Steven said.  
  
"Yes, you got beautiful Jackie, and your stepfather had Gross Edna. Oh, and so did your father, or else you wouldn't be here." Fez started to laugh. "Am I right, brother?"  
  
"Pretty much sums it up."  
  
Jackie heard the annoyance in Steven's voice, so she gave Fez a hug to shut his trap.   
  
"Ready?" Donna said to Eric. He nodded, and they went through the mirror together.  
  
Steven took Jackie's hand. "Our turn. See ya around, Fez."   
  
"Yeah," Jackie said, "for the weddi—"  
  
Steven yanked her inside the mirror. A wet darkness enveloped them and spat them into Mount Hump Park. The night sky was lit with stars, and their friends were waiting for them.   
  
"Well, I gotta go home and get my stuff," Michael said. "and by 'home,' I mean my parents' house 'cause most of my crap's still there. Then it's off to Chicago."   
  
"Hey, Kelso," Eric pulled him into a hug, "don't break any more mirrors, man."  
  
"I won't even look at a mirror," Michael said.   
  
Jackie embraced him next. "Yes, you will. You're too pretty not to look at your own reflection."  
  
"Yeah," Michael laughed, "you're right."  
  
It took a moment for Jackie to let him go. She was going to miss him.   
  
Donna gave Michael a hug after her, and he grabbed her butt.   
  
"Not for courage," he said. "Just 'cause I like it."   
  
"I do have a sweet ass," Donna said and stepped away.  
  
Steven clapped Michael's shoulder. "Kelso, man, think you could pick me up some of that Dwarf moss when you get back to the Fourth Kingdom?"   
  
"Steven..." Jackie said.  
  
"Never mind." He stepped away from Michael but nodded as if he meant what he'd said before.  
  
"Steven! You said that stuff almost killed you."  
  
"I'm kidding, Jackie. Calm down." Then he whispered to Michael, "I'm not kidding."  
  
"STEVEN!"  
  
He grinned at her, and she sighed.   
  
"Good luck with everything," Michael said to all of them. "You're probably gonna need it." Then he disappeared down a path through some trees.  
  
"He's right," Eric said and held Donna's hand. "Let's get this over with. Let's go home."  
  
"Forman, hold on a sec," Steven said.   
  
He pulled Eric aside and far enough away that Jackie couldn't hear what they were saying. She understood the gist of it, though. Steven had a sincere look on his face, the kind he used so sparingly, and Eric was nodding. Steven's scam had taken an equal toll on both of them.   
  
Eric put out his hand for Steven to shake, but Steven grabbed it and yanked him into a hug.  
  
" _ Aww... _ " Jackie and Donna said together and loudly.   
  
Steven and Eric split apart immediately.  
  
"Ready?" Donna said when Eric came back to her.   
  
"Not really." He offered Donna his arm. "M'lady?" She took it, and they vanished down the same path as Michael.  
  
"So," Steven said to Jackie, "what do you wanna do?"   
  
She slipped her arms around his waist. "How about... nothing."   
  
"Sounds good."   
  
He brought her to a bench, and they sat together. The night air had a chill to it, but Steven was keeping her warm. Crickets were chirping in the grass, and the lampposts around them lit the park with a hazy glow.   
  
Steven looked at her with a peaceful smile. "This is nice," he said   
  
Jackie slid her hand over his palm and laced their fingers. Happily Ever After didn't just happen. She knew from all her experiences through the mirror. Happily Ever After had to be earned, mostly by working at being Happy Right Now.   
  
Which she very much was. 


	46. Home Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer 1:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC. _The 10th Kingdom_ copyright Babelsberg International Filmproduktion GmbH  & Co. Beitriebs KG and Hallmark Entertainment Distribution, LLC. No money's being made through this story. Simply written out of the love for the two series. 
> 
> **Disclaimer 2:** I have taken great pains not to reproduce any of the narrative from _The 10th Kingdom_ novelization by Kathryn Wesley. The narrative (i.e. the words) of this story are mine with the exception that some of dialogue has been retained from The 10th Kingdom for the sake of story clarity.

CHAPTER 46  
** HOME AGAIN **

The front door of his house wasn't locked, but Eric's hands were sweaty, and he fumbled with the knob. He and Donna had agreed to face Red first. They'd disappeared almost two weeks ago, and the rage that awaited them inside that house would likely rival any dragon's.  
  
"Eric, maybe you should knock," Donna said.  
  
"No, I got this."   
  
He finally managed to open the door, and Donna held onto his arm as they entered the house. His parents were standing by the living room couch, as if they'd known he would be there.  
  
"Eric!" Red ran to him and grasped his shoulders.  
  
"Look, Dad, you have to listen to me before you start yelling. I—"  
  
"No, no. It's okay, son. Your sister explained everything already."  
  
Eric froze.  
  
"For God's sake—" Red rolled his eyes. "Eric, she told me how you saved her up there in Canada. I'm proud of you."   
  
" _ So am I! _ " Eric's mother was crying. She dashed up to him and pulled him into her arms.   
  
"Mom," he said after a minute. "Mom, you're choking me."   
  
"Oh." Kitty loosened her grip, and then she laughed. "It's just—I'm just so happy to see you!"  
  
"I know." Eric took both of her hands and kissed them. His pulse had quickened to a painful speed. "Mom, is Laurie... is she here?"  
  
"She left a few minutes before you got home. We offered to drive her to the airport, but she—"  
  
"The airport?" Eric said.  
  
"Yes, son. That place with the planes." Red mimed an airplane taking off. "They go up in the air and land again. Have you been drinking maple syrup?"   
  
"No, Dad, I know what an airport is. But why—"  
  
Red sighed. "Apparently a man can be both a hero and a dumbass. She had to go back home, dumbass."  
  
"In Canada..." Eric glanced back at Donna, who shrugged.  
  
"Her life is there, honey," Kitty said.   
  
"Right. I gotta go."  
  
Eric grabbed Donna's hand and pulled her toward the door.  
  
"But... but, Eric, you just got here," Kitty said.   
  
"And I'll be here again—later."   
  
He ran out of the house and dragged Donna with him.  
  
"Where are we going?" Donna said.  
  
"Wedge Hill!" he said, and they continued to run into the night. 

***

Wedge Hill was a three-block stretch of sidewalk whose steep incline made for great sled riding in winter—and terrifying bike riding during the rest of the year. Eric and Donna were climbing to the top of it. Donna kept asking him why, but Eric couldn't tell her. He just knew he had to do it.  
  
His legs hurt, and his heart was jackhammering in his chest. But when he and Donna made it to the top, he thought his heart would shoot out his mouth and tumble back down the hill. In the light of the lampposts he saw it, a single red rose lying on the pavement.   
  
"Donna..."   
  
"Oh, my God. Eric, what do you think it means?"   
  
He wrapped Donna in his arms and held her close. "She's okay." Then he smiled into Donna's shoulder.  
  
Wherever she was, Laurie was okay. 


End file.
